STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

TALES       OF       RUSSIAN       JEWRY 


STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

TALES    OF    RUSSIAN    JEWRY 


BY 

SAMUEL     GORDON 

Author  of  "  Sons  of  the  Covenant"  "Lesser  Destinies"  etc. 


PHILADELPHIA          1902 
THE    JEWISH    PUBLICATION     SOCIETY    OF    AMERICA 


COFVRIGHT,   igoz, 

BY 

THE  JEWISH  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY  OP  AMERICA 


JSorb 

THE  PRIEDENWALD  COMPANY 
BALTIMORE,   MD.,   U.  S.  A. 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM 7 

MUMMER  AND  MORALIST 91 

THE  FOURTH  DIMENSION HI 

THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM 128 

TOWARDS  THE  SUNRISE 142 

ON  THE  ROAD  TO  ZION 165 

AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT 182 

HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PROP 205 

THE  GRANDCHILDREN 232 

TO  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD 244 

THE  ROAD-MAKERS 257 

THE  BROKEN  PANE 305 

THE  LEADER 315 

RABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST 327 

' 'WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE" 352 

THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS 369 

THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE 391 

COSSACK  AND  CHORISTER 437 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM 

A  STUDY  IN  SISTEBS 

I 

THE  shop  stood  in  the  very  centre  of  the  town.  One 
could  determine  this  with  almost  mathematical  pre 
cision,  for  the  place  was  styled  a  town  less  on  its  merits 
than  by  geographical  courtesy;  as  a  matter  of  fact  it 
consisted  of  a  single  street,  all  frontage,  which,  start 
ing  from  the  shop,  took  a  few  strides  to  the  right,  as 
many,  or  as  few,  to  the  left,  and  then  broke  off 
abruptly.  It  enjoyed,  however,  the  distinction  of  be 
ing  one  of  the  half  dozen  frontier  stations  within  the 
railway  radius,  the  main  object  of  which  is  to  render 
the  lives  of  travellers  passing  in  and  out  of  the  land 
of  the  shadow  of  the  Czar  as  much  a  burden  to  them 
selves  as  possible.  Woe  to  the  improvident  passenger 
whose  passport  shows  the  slightest  flaw  or  discrepancy. 
The  double-headed  eagle  of  Eussia  has  sharp  eyes  and 
sharper  claws,  and  he  can  strike  hard,  unless  one  has 
the  means  and  the  presence  of  mind  to  soothe  the 
ruffled  feelings  of  his  myrmidons.  As  a  rule,  palm 
oil  will  be  found  very  effective.  If  you  succeed  in 
running  the  bureaucratic  gauntlet,  you  are  allowed  to 
get  off  with  the  fright,  and  the  conviction  that  the 
Russian  frontier  is  a  beautiful  thing  in  the  retrospect. 
If  you  do  not,  you  become  an  object  of  tender  solici 
tude  to  sundry  gendarmes,  till  advices  arrive  whether 
and  whither  you  are  to  be  expedited  by  special  escort. 


8  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

To  begin  again,  then.  The  shop  stood  in  the  middle 
of  the  town.  It  was  a  miscellaneous  depot  of  salt 
herrings,  treacle,  Limburg  cheese,  and  everything  else 
that  could  go  to  make  it  a  large-sized  spice-box.  Its 
atmosphere,  in  consequence,  was  a  downright  extra 
vagance;  condensed  in  jars,  it  could  have  been  sold  as 
an  original  kind  of  condiment.  But  Zillah  was  used 
to  it  by  now.  She  had  been  born  into  it,  though  she 
could  never  make  out  how,  under  the  circumstances, 
she  had  survived  her  birth. 

Just  now  she  was  serving  in  the  shop,  as  usual ;  that 
is,  she  was  seated  behind  the  counter  absorbed  in  her 
book,  while  Yeiteles,  the  boy-of-all-work,  attended  to 
the  customers,  and  handed  her  the  money,  which 
Zillah  never  checked.  For  Zillah  did  nothing  but  read 
— not  the  homespun  lucubrations  of  the  Jargon  litera 
ture,  but  real  German  novels  by  Franzos,  and  Marlitt, 
and  Spielhagen.  When  she  was  nine,  and  her  sister, 
Salka,  seven,  they  had  been  sent  to  their  uncle,  a 
well-to-do  shopkeeper  in  an  East  Prussian  provincial 
capital,  to  get  a  little  schooling.  Salka  did  not  go 
back  to  him  after  the  first  holidays,  because  all  the 
time  she  had  been  dying  of  home-sickness;  not  even 
the  beautiful  name  of  Rosalie,  which  her  girl-cousins 
had  promised  to  give  her,  could  prompt  her  to  return. 
But  Zillah  went  back,  term  after  term,  till  she  was 
sixteen,  because  she  did  not  notice  the  silent  protest 
in  her  parents'  eyes,  the  unspoken  admonition  that  it 
was  time  she  should  cast  anchor  at  their  hearth;  and 
when  at  last  there  came  tangible  cause  for  her  to  stay 
with  them,  she  obeyed,  but  with  a  heart  gnawed  to  the 
core  by  discontent. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  9 

It  was  her  mother's  illness  that  had  called  Zillah 
back  to  the  hole-and-corner  life  in  the  dreary  frontier 
town,  just  as  her  eyes  were  beginning  to  open  on  the 
manifold  glories  and  the  gladness  of  the  outer  world, 
her  ears  to  catch  the  loudening  echoes  of  its  thousand- 
voiced  laughter,  her  soul  to  feel  its  life-joy,  which 
leavened  her  placid  girlhood  with  a  subtle  presage  of 
possible  delights.  Aye,  just  then  she  had  to  leave  it 
all;  but  she  brought  the  memory  of  it,  a  precious 
contraband,  back  with  her  into  captivity,  three 
months  of  which  had  ripened  her  into  a  woman.  One 
grows  old  quickly  in  prison.  And  to  her  woman's 
fancy,  which  intensified  the  girl's  dream,  these  things 
seemed  more  desirable,  more  alluring,  because  of  the 
iron  restraint  that  hemmed  in  her  young  life.  Not 
fifty  yards  from  the  house  loomed  up  the  cross-barred 
frontier-gate,  where  the  sentries'  bayonets  gleamed 
night  and  day,  and  fierce-eyed,  impatient  bloodhounds 
yelped  disconsolately.  And  beyond  them  lay  the  fairy 
land  from  which  she  had  been  banished,  the  gladsome 
companionship  of  the  wider,  larger  life  she  so  often 
dwelt  on  with  hungering  memory.  Every  evening,  as 
she  heard  the  rattle  of  the  massive  ring-chain  being 
drawn  across  the  gate-posts,  she  felt  the  world  was 
locked  amid  the  hard  metallic  laughter  of  her  malig 
nant  fate. 

That  was  her  horizon  without.  And  within,  the 
same  narrowness,  the  same  choking  of  the  tether. 
Three  human  souls,  just  three,  peopled  her  universe. 
The  bedridden,  unrepining  mother;  the  equally  patient 
sister,  who  had  made  it  her  task  to  fan  the  flickering 
life  back  to  a  fuller  blaze ;  and  the  sturdy,  quick-witted 


10  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

father,  who  was  constantly  traversing  the  country's 
breadth  to  pile  yet  higher  the  contents  of  the  stout 
oaken  safe;  and  report  had  it  that  Anshel  Markovitz 
was  a  prosperous  man.  On  these  three,  then,  Zillah 
expended  what  emotions  were  not  crushed  within  her 
by  the  leaden-footed  routine.  She  gave  them  all  her 
heart;  and  yet,  when  they  thought  her  closest  to  them, 
she  was  roving  through  an  enchanting  wonder-world 
whither  they  did  not  accompany  her — the  world  she 
had  fashioned  for  herself  out  of  the  books  she  was  for 
ever  reading — reading — reading. 

Five  years  lay  between  her  final  return  from  Ger 
many  and  this  sultry  late-summer  afternoon.  There 
was  little  or  no  business,  and  Yeiteles  had  utilized  the 
fact  by  going  to  sleep  in  an  empty  herring  barrel;  the 
salt  smell  made  his  throat  very  dry,  and  he  wheezed 
raucously.  Zillah  sat  in  a  wicker  chair,  her  hands 
toying  idly  in  her  lap  with  the  book  they  held.  She 
was  dreaming — the  same  old  dreams  of  the  far-away, 
the  unattainable.  She  got  tired  of  that  as  well. 
Wearily  she  rose  and  stepped  to  the  door;  the  shop 
was  stifling.  The  street  appeared  empty,  but  no — 
just  then  old  Torkov,  the  hunchback  idiot,  came  hob 
bling  round  the  corner.  Just  in  front  of  Zillah  he 
stopped,  his  gaze  caught  by  a  putrefying  apple  on  the 
pavement — the  pigs  had  over-sighted  it  because  they 
preferred  to  nose  in  the  garbage  of  the  open  road. 
With  a  squeal  of  joy  Torkov  snatched  up  his  treasure- 
trove,  and  devoured  it  as  he  shambled  on.  Zillah 
looked  after  him  with  a  curious  smile  on  her  face. 

"  God  was  good  to  you,  Torkov,"  she  murmured  at 
last,  "better  than  to  me.  If  only  I  had  been  born 
like  that,  inwardly  and  outwardly." 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  11 

Then  she  went  back  to  her  wicker  chair  and  the 
German  novel.  Yeiteles,  awakened  by  her  step,  sat 
up  with  a  snort,  and  rubbed  his  eyes.  Another  foot 
fall  was  heard  from  the  back  of  the  shop,  and  Salka 
came  in  softly. 

" Mother  is  asleep,"  she  said.  "I'll  just  run  down 
to  the  post  and  see  if  there  is  a  letter  from  father. 
If  mother  calls " 

Zillah  nodded  silently.  She  always  saved  words 
where  signs  sufficed;  perhaps  it  was  that  which  had 
stamped  the  pathos  on  her  lips. 

Salka  was  considerably  longer  over  her  errand  than 
was  usually  the  case,  so  much  so  that  she  felt  it 
necessary  to  give  an  explanation  on  her  return. 

"  The  Police  Commissioner  is  dead — died  suddenly," 
she  said;  "I  stayed  to  hear  all  about  it.  Everybody 
is  wondering  what  the  new  man  will  be  like.  There 
is  a  lot  of  excitement." 

"Yes,  a  death  is  the  only  thing  that  makes  folks 
here  know  they  are  alive,"  commented  Zillah.  "Is 
there  a  letter?" 

"Oh,  I  nearly  forgot,"  stammered  Salka,  confused 
at  having  apparently  neglected  their  father  on  account 
of  a  stranger;  "yes,  a  big  one — I  can  feel  by  the 
envelope.  Shall  we  wait  till  mother  wakes  up  ?  " 

"No,"  said  Zillah,  "if  there  is  good  news  she  will 
hear  it  twice — once  from  our  telling  and  again  from 
the  reading.  If,  God  forbid,  something  is  not  as  it 
ought  to  be,  we  shall  know  what  to  leave  out." 

And  slowly  she  ripped  open  the  cover,  while  Salka 
looked  at  her  with  shining  eyes.  It  was  a  very  big 
letter — twice  the  ordinary  length;  it  began  by  saying 


12  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

that  the  writer  was  .well,  and  that  business  was  flourish- 
ing,  and  went  on  to  detail  with  much  circumstance  the 
bargains  he  had  driven,  as  well  as  the  course  of  his 
journeys.  A  puzzled  look  came  over  Zillah's  face  as 
she  read. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  suddenly  interrupted  herself, 
"  father  never  writes  like  that.  There's  something  he 
has  to  say  and  is  putting  off — ah,  here  it  is !  " 

She  had  skimmed  the  next  page  hurriedly,  and  had 
found  what  she  was  searching  for.  It  ran  as  follows: 
"  And  now,  my  dear  ones,  I  have  joyful  tidings  for  you; 
like  a  miser  his  gold,  so  have  I  been  eking  out  the  pleas 
ure  of  it  to  the  utmost.  I  am  returning  to  you  this  day 
week,  and  not  alone.  I  am  bringing  with  me — but  I 
shall  not  say  whom,  only  that  a  great  honor  is  being 
done  to  our  house.  You  will  be  pleased  with  me.  So 
content  yourselves  meantime  with  the  knowledge  that 
wherever  I  go,  whatever  I  do,  my  children's  happiness 
is  nearest  my  heart." 

Zillah  paused  and  looked  questions  at  her  sister. 
The  latter  answered  only  with  a  mischievous  smile. 

"  Tell  me,  what  does  it  mean  ?  You  seem  to  be  in 
the  secret,"  urged  Zillah. 

"You  know,  too.  If  not,  I  shall  give  you  a  hint: 
you  were  twenty-one  this  summer." 

"Well?"  asked  Zillah,  keeping  down  her  upstrug- 
gling  suspicion  of  the  truth. 

"  And  father  took  your  photograph  away  with  him." 

Zillah  started  back,  pale  to  the  lips.  Then  she 
looked  round  quickly;  the  shop  was  empty.  Yeiteles 
had  sneaked  out  to  verify  the  report  of  the  Commis 
sioner's  death. 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  13 

"  It  means — my  marriage,"  she  whispered. 

Salka  was  about  to  assent,  with  a  merry  laugh  at 
the  well-planned  surprise;  but  she  stopped  short  when 
she  saw  Zillah's  mouth  contract  as  with  the  pain  of  a 
sudden  wound. 

"  Oh,  anything  but  that,"  came  piteously  from  the 
puckered  lips,  "  anything  but  that,  Salka.  Why  should 
it  be?  Do  I  complain?  Do  I  say  I  am  dissatisfied? 
All  I  ask  is  to  be  left  to  myself.  I  don't  want  to 
belong  to  anyone  else.  I  want  to  be  my  own — and 
yours.  I  am  to  be  given  to  a  man  into  whose  face  I 
have  never  looked,  whose  voice  I  have  never  heard,  to 
be  his  inalienably,  while  I  may  be  gasping  for  liberty; 
what  shall  I  do,  sister  of  mine,  what  shall  I  do  ?  " 

Salka's  eyes  drooped  because  they  were  heavy  with 
the  mist  of  tears.  "  Trust  father,"  she  replied,  after 
a  while ;  "  he  is  not  the  man  to  make  mistakes.  I  am 
certain  he  has  satisfied  himself  that  your  husband-to-be 
is  all  one  can  desire.  Does  he  not  say  he  is  always 
thinking  of  our  happiness  ?  " 

"Who  says  I  am  not  happy?"  asked  Zillah,  eagerly. 
"  Am  I  to  go  about  laughing  and  singing  with  the 
shadow  of  mother's  illness  in  the  house  ?  I  shall  prom 
ise  him  he  will  never  see  a  frown  on  my  face,  never  a 
vexed  look ;  but  he  must  not  force  me  to  this." 

"It  will  grieve  him — and  mother,"  said  Salka, 
quietly. 

Zillah  clenched  her  hands. 

"  I  have  never  thought  of  myself,"  she  said,  almost 
harshly,  "  it  was  always  of  them;  well,  they  must  also 
be  generous  for  once."  Then  her  eyes  lit  up.  "  Sup 
pose  the  man  does  not  care  for  me,  after  all?"  she 
broke  off  suddenly. 


14  STRANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

Salka  came  a  step  nearer,  and  silently  turned  her 
Bister's  face  to  the  light;  then  as  silently  she  shook  her 
head. 

'''  You  think  he  will  approve  of  me  ?  "  said  Zillah 
despairingly. 

"  Who  would  not?  "  replied  Salka. 

There  was  a  slight  tapping  overhead. 

"Mother's  awake— that's  her  knock/'  continued 
Salka,  hurriedly.  «  Come,  we  must  read  her  the  let 
ter." 

Zillah  held  her  back. 

"  Not  a  word— don't  tell  her  how  I  think  of  it/'  she 
whispered;  "another  time,  when  she  is  stronger." 

^  Salka  nodded,  and  led  the  way  up  to  the  spacious, 
airy  bedroom.  A  pale,  wasted  woman  smiled  on  them 
happily,  as  they  entered. 

"Good  news  from  father,"  cried  Salka;  " listen— " 

But  the  next  moment  Zillah  had  taken  the  letter  out 
of  her  hand. 

"I  am  the  elder,"  she  said  simply.  Steady  and 
clear  her  voice  gave  out  every  word,  without  a  quaver, 
even  when  she  came  to  the  tidings  at  which  her  heart 
had  rebelled. 

The  happy  smile  deepened  in  her  mother's  eyes,  and 
then  the  thin  little  voice  said : 

"  Thank  God !  So  he  has  succeeded.  Zillah,  kiss  me. 
That  was  a  cold  kiss,  but  perhaps  it  is  my  fault;  my 
lips  are  never  warm.  In  a  week's  time,  then  ?  " 

Salka  stood  at  the  window. 

"  Some  people  have  gone  into  the  shop,  Zillah,"  she 
called. 

And  Zillah  went  downstairs,  thanking  Providence 
for  such  a  sister. 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  15 

II 

IT  WAS  the  following  afternoon.  From  the  doorway 
of  the  shop  Zillah  was  staring  into  infinity.  Over 
night  she  had  had  ample  time  to  grasp  the  situation 
more  clearly  and  to  gaze  deeper  into  her  heart;  both 
which  things  did  not  tend  to  make  her  happier.  It 
was  not  merely  the  thought  of  being  handed  over, 
bound  hand  and  foot,  to  an  utter  stranger,  which  agon 
ized  her;  but  with  such  a  marriage  she  knew  full  well 
her  last  chance  of  redeeming  herself  from  the  trammels 
of  her  present  bondage  was  gone  irretrievably.  For 
the  man  who  had  gained  the  approval  of  her  parents 
so  signally  as  this  projected  husband  of  hers  seemed 
to  have  done,  could  not  but  stand  in  complete  accord 
with  their  views  and  ways  and  wishes.  And  their 
views  and  ways  were  not  always  hers.  Their  wishes 
had  always  found  her  obedient;  all  the  rebelling  she 
had  done  had  usually  been  against  herself.  But  now 
she  was  asked  to  lock  the  portals  of  her  prison  and 
throw  away  the  key.  She  was  to  be  burdened  with 
duties  that  were  but  a  euphemism  for  menial  service. 
She  would  be  a  household  drudge,  weaving  day  to  day 
and  year  to  year,  without  a  knot  in  the  texture  to  mark 
where  an  event  had  broken  the  faceless  uniformity. 
That  was  the  fate  of  all  the  women  she  knew;  only 
they  had  harnessed  themselves  willingly  in  their  traces 
— nay  more,  they  flaunted  them,  as  a  badge  of  honor, 
in  the  eyes  of  those  who  had  not  yet  become  yoke 
fellows.  But  these  women  had  not  been  given  under 
standing;  the  world's  cry  rang  in  their  ears  inarticu 
late,  they  did  not  even  know  it  was  capable  of  inter 
pretation.  She,  too,  would  have  to  forget  that  to  her 


16  STBANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

it  was  once  fraught  with  a  great  meaning;  she  would 
forget  easily  once  she  got  into  the  groove  of  haggling 
over  the  price  of  vegetables  and  descanting  on  the 
merits  of  the  tinker  who  doctored  her  pots  and  pans. 
It  escaped  her  that  this  did  not  define  the  scope  and 
function  of  the  average  housewife  of  her  race,  or  any 
race;  but  when  one  is  sore  with  oneself,  one  is  least 
likely  to  do  justice  to  others. 

Her  eyes  ached  with  the  cloudless  glare  of  the  after 
noon  sky.  She  was  glad  of  it — the  physical  pain 
seemed  somewhat  to  lessen  her  heart-ache,  and  it  was 
a  pain  she  could  relieve  more  easily  than  the  other. 
In  front  of  her  stretched  a  strip  of  greensward  carpet 
ing  the  opposite  side  of  the  road.  Presently  she  rested 
her  eyes  upon  it.  A  tall  man  was  walking  across  the 
grass,  his  sabre  clanking  musically  against  his  spurs. 
As  he  passed,  he  turned  his  face  on  Zillah's,  casually 
and  carelessly;  he  evidently  did  not  care  what  there 
was  to  be  seen.  Then  his  gaze  tightened;  it  became  a 
stare.  Zillah  stood  unconcerned.  She  was  used  to 
this,  had  been  used  to  it  since  she  was  fifteen.  Most 
people  looked  at  her;  some  went  to  the  trouble  of 
adjusting  their  pince-nez  for  a  proper  focus.  From 
that  she  knew  she  was  beautiful;  the  glances  of  young 
men  make  a  reliable  mirror. 

The  tall  man  walked  on,  but  at  a  slower  pace.  Two 
or  three  times  he  looked  round,  but  the  worship  of  his 
eyes  was  wasted  on  Zillah,  for  she  was  busy  resting 
her  own  on  the  grass-patch  opposite.  And  when  she 
found  they  were  relieved,  she  retired  to  her  wicker 
chair,  and  went  on  with  her  book.  Business  was  slack, 
as  usual  at  this  time  of  the  day,  and  she  could  look 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  17 

forward  to  a  long  stretch  of  leisure.  Her  story  was 
getting  near  to  the  climax;  rapidly,  ravenously  almost, 
she  was  turning  the  pages,  fascinated  by  the  power  of 
its  genius — yes,  she  knew  what  genius  was.  Suddenly 
a  cry  of  vexation  broke  from  her;  a  shadow  had  fallen 
across  the  leaf,  and  would  not  go  away.  She  looked 
up;  the  tall  young  officer  of  half-an-hour  ago  stood  in 
the  doorway,  his.  attitude  one  of  irresolution.  Her 
upward  glance  seemed  to  decide  him;  he  stepped  into 
the  shop,  touching  his  cap  politely  and  keeping  his 
sabre  from  clattering.  Zillah  remained  quietly  seated. 

"  What  do  you  speak  here  ?  "  he  asked.  And  just 
then  he  caught  sight  of  the  book  Zillah  had  laid  open 
upon  the  counter,  and  continued  in  excellent  German: 
"  Ah,  the  language  of  Heine;  we  shall  understand  each 
other." 

His  voice  sounded  firm,  yet  mellow — not  an  unkindly 
voice. 

"What  is  your  wish?"  asked  Zillah,  self-possessed. 

The  young  man  forgot  to  answer  immediately;  he 
was  immersed  in  her  eyes.  He  recovered  himself  with 
a  little  laugh. 

"  I  am  bewitched;  I  suffer  from  an  absurd  fancy  for 
smoked  flounders.  You  Jews  can  prepare  them  as  no 
other  people  can;  if  only  you  would  never  do  anything 
worse." 

Zillah's  face  was  as  that  of  a  statue. 

"  How  many  do  you  require  ?  "  she  asked,  noncha 
lantly  as  before. 

"  Just  a  couple  will  do  for  the  present." 

"Yeiteles,  a  pair  of  flounders  for  the  gentleman; 
wrap  them  up  neatly,"  said  Zillah. 


18  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

The  next  moment  she  had  resumed  her  book,  and 
was  leaning  back  in  her  chair,  apparently  oblivious  of 
everything. 

A  quiet  smile  hovered  on  the  officer's  lips  as  he 
watched  Yeiteles  clumsily  struggling  with  his  task; 
but  from  where  he  stood  he  could  likewise  observe 
Zillah's  profile  and  her  long  lashes,  even  to  noting 
how  they  curled  up  at  the  ends.  Yeiteles  was  not  so 
clumsy  after  all;  at  any  rate  he  seemed  to  have  taken 
a  marvellously  short  time  over  his  parcel. 

"  What  have  I  to  pay  ?  "  asked  the  purchaser. 

"  Twenty  copecks,  please,"  answered  Zillah,  turning 
over-leaf. 

Leisurely  the  young  man  pulled  out  his  pocket-book, 
and  from  it  selected  a  hundred-rouble  note.  Zillah 
took  it  up,  and  glanced  at  it. 

"I  can't  give  you  change  for  so  much,"  she  said 
coldly,  handing  it  back  to  him. 

"Then  I  can't  have  my  flounders,  I  suppose?  I 
have  nothing  less,"  said  the  other.  The  smile  was 
there  all  through. 

"  No  matter;  you  can  send  the  money  round  after 
wards." 

He  did  not  take  that  for  his  dismissal;  he  stood  tap 
ping  the  counter  with  his  knuckles. 

"Your  book  must  be  very  interesting,"  he  said  at 
last. 

"  Yes,"  returned  Zillah,  curtly. 

"  So  interesting  that  you  do  not  observe  this  is  an 
historic  event — a  precedent,  to  say  the  least." 

Zillah  raised  her  head,  but  not  her  eyes. 

"You  ask  how?"  he  continued.     "Well,  in  this 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  19 

way.  An  officer  of  his  Majesty  the  Emperor  comes  to 
make  a  purchase  in  a  Jewish  shop  while  the  mistress 
is  present,  and  she  allows  him  to  get  served  by  the 
errand-boy,  the  state  of  whose  fingers  is  not  above 
reproach.  I  consider  the  fact  distinctly  original." 

This  time  he  forced  her  to  look  at  him. 

"  When  an  officer  of  the  Emperor  buys  something 
in  a  Jewish  shop/'  she  echoed,  "he  buys  that  which 
he  pays  for;  he  does  not  buy  its  owner  as  well." 

"In  this  case  she  is  certainly  beyond  price,"  he 
interrupted  banteringly. 

"But  I  am  sorry  about  Yeiteles,"  she  continued 
eagerly.  "  Yeiteles,  go  and  wash  your  hands,  and  give 
the  gentleman  two  other  flounders." 

"  Pray  don't  trouble  the  excellent  Yeiteles,"  smiled 
the  young  man;  "I  never  intended  to  eat  the  fish 
myself;  surely  you  must  have  known  that  all  along. 
I  came  here — can  you  tell  me  why  I  came  here  ?  " 

"Yes,"  she  replied  quickly,  "to  cast  insult  at  my 
people." 

"Oh,  that  rankles,"  he  said  with  a  short  laugh; 
"but  I  did  not  intend  it  for  an  insult,  I  assure  you. 
It  was  just  an  experiment." 

Neither  by  word  nor  by  gesture  did  she  ask  his 
meaning. 

"  You  are  certainly  not  inquisitive,"  he  proceeded; 
"  but  I  feel  sure  you  would  like  to  know  all  the  same. 
I  wanted  to  see  if  the  placid,  unruffled  exterior  you 
presented  to  me  harbored  any  emotions.  You  foiled 
me  at  first;  I  am  glad  I  stayed  long  enough  to  get 
a  reward  for  my  diplomacy.  A  volcano  beneath  an 
iceberg  is  a  rare  phenomenon.  I  wish  you  good-day." 


20  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

At  the  door  he  turned  again;  his  former  smile  had 
resumed  possession  of  his  face. 

"  Do  you  know  what  I  should  suggest  to  you  for  an 
occupation?  You  might  make  a  tour  in  the  Greek 
orthodox  villages  and  exhibit  yourself  as  the  Madonna 
Rediviva.  Your  eyes  alone  would  bring  you  many 
believers." 

Five  minutes  after  he  was  gone  Zillah  happened  to 
glance  at  Yeiteles;  he  looked  troubled. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Yeiteles  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  stammered  the  boy;  "  but  if  I  were 
you,  I  should  have  been  more — more  friendly  to  the 
gentleman.  He  is  the  new  Police  Commissioner." 

"  And  what  if  he  is  ?  "  smiled  Zillah. 

"  He  might  take  away  your  shop  license." 

"And  then?" 

"  And  then  I  should  be  without  work,  and  should 
have  to  go  back  home  to  starve  with  the  others." 

Ill 

ZILLAH  sat  idle;  her  book  lay  discarded.  She 
was  reading  something  more  interesting — her  own 
thoughts,  to  wit;  that,  after  all,  was  her  favorite 
literature,  as  it  is  with  all  who  live  their  lives  in- 
solitude.  The  form  of  her  thoughts  was  the  same  as 
usual,  and  yet  withal  there  was  a  different  tone  and 
color  to  them.  She  was  trying  to  account  to  herself 
for  the  change,  and  failed.  It  seemed  to  her  that  the 
far-away  wonder-world  to  which  she  had  all  these 
years  been  stretching  forth  her  hands  in  impotent 
longing,  had  quite  suddenly  stepped  close  and  touched 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  21 

her  on  the  arm.  She  had  heard  its  voice  speak  loudly 
at  her  ear,  for  a  moment  only,  it  was  true,  but  the 
touch  still  thrilled  her,  the  utterance  had  not  ceased 
to  reverberate.  It  was  a  pleasant  sensation,  this  sud 
den  brightness  that  had  flitted  across  the  midnight  of 
her  desolation.  Only  that  the  mystery  of  it  fright 
ened  her.  Surely  it  owed  nothing  to  the  young  Com 
missioner  who  had  talked  to  her  yesterday  afternoon? 
What  made  her  suppose  it  did?  Young  men  had 
talked  to  her  before,  more  conciliatingly  than  this  rude 
stranger  had  done.  It  would  be  paying  him  a  compli 
ment  to  connect  him,  however  distantly,  with  anything 
that  gave  her  pleasure. 

And  meanwhile  her  doubts  redoubled.  Then  it 
struck  her  it  was  the  close-packed  atmosphere  of  the 
shop  that  clogged  her  power  of  analysis.  Perhaps  if 
she  went  out  into  the  heart  of  the  forest,  among  the 
leafy,  nodding  wiseacres,  they  would  whisper  sugges 
tions  to  her,  and  interpret  her  to  herself.  She  did 
not  wait  to  hear  out  her  promptings;  the  next  moment 
she  had  reached  down  the  crook-handled  sunshade  of 
faded  pink  from  its  peg— a  few  rapid  touches  to  her 
hair,  and  she  was  ready. 

"  Yeiteles,"  she  called  from  the  doorstep,  "  I  shall 
be  back  in  an  hour;  be  attentive,  and  don't  eat  too 
much  treacle." 

Quickly  she  stepped  down  the  street.  Outside  the 
last  house  but  one  lounged  a  group  of  girls  and  young 
married  women,  laughing,  chatting,  munching  pears, 
and  ill-treating  innocent  pieces  of  calico  with  needles 
and  thread.  As  Zillah  approached,  their  merriment 
grew  hushed.  She  nodded  pleasantly;  one  or  two 


22  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

responded,  but  no  one  asked  her  where  she  was  going, 
or  if  she  would  join  them.  Zillah  passed  on  un 
troubled;  she  had  noted  the  sudden  silence  that  had 
greeted  her  appearance — nay  more,  she  had  expected 
it.  Whose  was  the  fault?  Not  theirs,  she  admitted 
that.  Her  whilom  playmates  had  given  her  cordial 
welcome  whenever  she  had  appeared  in  their  midst; 
they  had  overlooked  the  chariness  of  her  response  as 
long  as  they  could  disguise  it  to  themselves.  Then 
gradually  they  had  become  aware  that  Zillah  was  the 
daughter  of  the  richest  man  in  the  place,  that  her 
beauty  was  beyond  compare,  that  she  possessed  knowl 
edge  of  things  far  out  of  their  ken;  and  all  this  en 
titled  her  to  her  strange  aloofness.  Pride  they  called 
it  for  short;  but  to  Zillah  it  sometimes  seemed  a  curse 
that  rested  upon  her.  She  could  not  otherwise  account 
for  the  perverseness  that  made  her  an  exile  in  body,  be 
cause  her  soul  felt  an  anchorite.  She  did  not  regret 
it,  not  even  after  all  these  years  of  loneliness.  If  a 
pang  stung  her  heart,  it  was  that  she  had  forced  her 
sister  to  follow  her  into  this  self-banishment.  Salka 
had  to  choose  between  her  former  associates  and  Zillah ; 
and  Salka  had  chosen  as  one  would  expect  of  her. 
Loyal  little  Salka! 

The  thoughts  of  it  kept  Zillah  company  as  far  as 
the  forest  border.  Then  she  remembered  she  had 
come  out  for  a  special  purpose,  and  dismissed  them. 
The  wood  itself  had  too  much  tangle  and  undergrowth 
to  make  pleasant  walking,  but  the  road-path  into  which 
it  had  been  widened  was  good  thoroughfare  for  foot 
and  vehicle.  Zillah  kept  well  within  the  shadow  of 
the  trees.  It  was  quiet  as  the  grave;  if  she  could 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  23 

not  now  puzzle  her  heart  clear  of  its  doubts,  they 
would  only  vanish  in  the  greater  darkness  of  eternity. 

Behind  her  rang  out  the  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs. 
That  did  not  trouble  her;  she  knew  no  one  who  rode 
a  horse,  at  least  at  that  speed,  and  therefore  she  did 
not  fear  interruption. 

The  rider  came  abreast,  cast  a  quick,  sidelong  glance 
at  her,  and  pulled  up  with  a  jerk.  The  next  thing  she 
knew  was  that  he  had  dismounted,  and  was  walking 
beside  her,  leading  the  chafing  animal  by  the  bridle. 

"Good-day,"  he  said  pleasantly;  "this  is  lucky — 
I  can  pay  my  debt  now." 

She  looked  at  him;  their  eyes  were  almost  on  a 
level.  A  flush  was  on  her  face,  but  it  might  have  been 
only  the  reflected  tint  of  the  pink  parasol. 

"  But  you  had  no  value  for  the  money;  you  did  not 
eat  the  fish,"  she  said. 

"  That's  true,  but  my  Phylax  enjoyed  them  tre 
mendously.  You  should  have  heard  his  bark  after, 
it  sounded  like  a  thanksgiving.  By  the  way,  do  you 
often  take  walks — alone  ?  " 

"Whenever  occasion  offers,"  she  answered  equi 
vocally.  She  was  thinking  what,  according  to  Yeiteles, 
would  happen  if  she  were  not  "  more  friendly  to  the 
gentleman."  He  could  take  away  their  shop  license. 
Not  that  it  would  make  much  difference  to  them — 
they  could  live  on  the  contents  of  the  oaken  safe ;  but 
Yeiteles  would  be  thrown  out  of  employment,  and 
would  have  to  starve.  She  would  sacrifice  her  feelings 
of  resentment  for  poor  little  Yeiteles'  sake,  and  show 
herself  sociable  to  the  Commissioner. 

The  latter  did  not  appear  to  feel  there  was  cause 
for  apology. 


24  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"Yes,  in  these  nutshell  places  one  has  no  room  to 
be  alone,"  he  said,  apropos  of  nothing;  "I  have  been 
here  twenty-four  hours,  and  already  I  am  gasping  for 
breath.  So  I  came  out  for  a  canter." 

"  The  road  further  on  is  very  good,"  she  could  not, 
despite  her  resolution,  forbear  to  remark. 

"Ah,  you  don't  get  rid  of  me  so  quickly,"  he 
laughed.  "  The  road  further  on  will  improve  by  wait 
ing.  I  can  make  its  acquaintance  later,  seeing  I  may 
have  to  stay  here  some  time." 

"Unless  in  the  meantime  you  die  from  want  of 
breath,"  she  jested. 

"It's  not  so  serious  as  all  that,"  he  replied;  "I 
referred  only  to  the  moral  atmosphere,  of  course. 
Otherwise  small  towns  have  their  advantages.  For 
instance,  one  cannot  waste  any  money  in  them — except 
on  flounders." 

She  ignored  his  jest.  "  Not  one's  money,  but  one's 
time,"  she  said  gravely.  What  she  really  wanted  to 
say  was :  "  One's  youth." 

"  Time,  time,"  he  exclaimed  with  a  flippant  wave 
of  his  hand ;  "  what  is  time  when  one  is  in  the  twen 
ties?  You  feel  like  throwing  it  away  in  handfuls. 
One  can  start  to  economize  it  when  one  gets  old,  and 
the  store  scanty." 

She  made  no  answer.  Should  she  tell  him  she  was 
jealous  of  every  day,  every  hour  that  sped  on  and  left 
her  where  she  was  ? 

"Why  do  you  look  sad?  You  are  not  very  old," 
he  began  again,  half  playfully,  half  in  earnest. 

"Not  very,  and  even  if  I  were,  it  would  make  no 
difference  to  me,"  she  prevaricated. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  25 

"  Still  you  do  look  sad/'  he  persisted,  profiting  by 
the  opportunity  to  obtain  a  good  critical  look  at  her; 
"I  noticed  it  yesterday.  Do  you  know,  when  I  left 
you,  I  felt  sure  you  were  no  stranger  to  me;  I  seemed 
to  have  known  you  for  years." 

"  I  don't  understand,"  she  said. 

"I  did  not  understand  myself  at  the  time;  the 
explanation  came  afterwards.  It  was  because  I  had 
met  so  many  of  your  sisters — your  national  sisters,  I 
mean.  I  have  met  them  in  the  capitals  of  the  world — 
in  St.  Petersburg,  in  Berlin,  in  Paris.  They  were  all 
beautiful,  and  they  were  all  sad,  despite  their  diamonds 
and  coronets.  You  reminded  me  of  them.  And  why 
not?  Do  they  not  inherit  their  beauty  and  sadness 
from  the  same  stock  as  you — from  the  women  who 
sat  wailing  by  the  waters  of  Babylon  ?  " 

"  I  am  like  them,  you  say  ?  "  she  reiterated. 

"  Yes,  except  that  you  surpass  them  in  both  things. 
I  wonder  how  you  would  look  in  diamonds." 

"It's  very  kind  of  you  to  express  curiosity  about 
anything  that  concerns  me,"  she  said  lightly;  "it's 
more  than  I  should  do  myself."  Somehow  she  felt  she 
had  let  him  come  within  an  inch  of  trespassing  on 
forbidden  ground. 

They  walked  on  in  silence.  Zillah's  heart  throbbed. 
Again  the  strange  feeling  of  before  had  come  over  her 
— the  vague  exultation  at  having  approached  near  the 
nameless  goal  of  her  desire.  It  must  have  arisen  from 
the  mention  of  the  beautiful  women  in  coronets.  And 
that  was  due  to  the  man  at  her  side ;  he  had  seen  them 
as  close  as  he  saw  her  now.  So  it  was  he,  after  all, 
who  had  brought  the  wonder-world  into  her  horizon. 


26  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

But  its  wonders  were  no  longer  shadows;  they  had 
become  real.  They  gathered  themselves  into  pomps 
and  pageants  that  trailed  by  her  in  splendor  and 
magnificence;  she  could  almost  feel  them  catching  and 
whirling  her  off  her  feet.  So  she  had  not  come  in 
vain  to  the  forest-oracles;  they  had  given  her  the 
knowledge  for  which  she  craved.  And  somehow  she 
did  not  resent  that  knowledge  being  such  as  it  was. 

With  a  little  gasp  she  stopped.     « I  have  walked  too 
far— I  must  turn  back/'  she  said. 
"  So  must  I,"  he  echoed  quickly. 
"No,  please;"  she  lifted  her  eyes  as  she  spoke- 
she    knew    where    her    eloquence    lay.     "Take    your 
canter;  I  should  hate  to  think  I  deprived  you  of  it." 
"As  you  wish,"  he  said  disappointedly.     "By  the 
way,  though,  I  haven't  settled  my  account  after  all." 
For  a  moment  she  was  silent;  an  answer  was  strug 
gling  to  her  lips,  but  to  give  it  utterance  would  be 
playing  with  fire.     And  yet  it  was  pleasant  to  play 
with  fire  when  one  felt  cold  in  soul  or  body.     And, 
therefore,  she  became  reckless. 

"I  never  transact  business  outside  the  shop,"  was 
what  she  said. 

She  was  half-way  out  of  sight  before  he  caught  the 
full  drift  of  her  words;  then  a  smile  spread  over  his 
face,  and  he  stood  nodding  his  head  till  she  had  dis 
appeared. 

Yes,  she  was  right — the  road  further  on  was  very 
good  riding. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  27 

IT 

SALKA  was  watching  her  sister  in  the  twilight.  Her 
patient  was  sleeping  soundly  upstairs,  and  that  was 
Salka's  only  opportunity  for  escaping  from  the  sick 
room.  When  she  was  not  watching  her  mother,  she 
was  watching  her  sister,  and  from  long  observation 
she  had  learnt  to  construe  rightly  the  external  indica 
tions  of  her  every  mood.  But  the  expression  Zillah 
had  been  wearing  all  day  could  not  be  catalogued  under 
anv  particular  heading.  So  Salka  could  only  con 
jecture. 

"You  seem  to  be  expecting  someone,"  she  blurted 
out  at  last;  "you  have  been  looking  like  that  ever 
since  you  came  back  from  your  walk  yesterday." 

"Whom  should  I  expect?"  asked  Zillah,  gazing 
straight  at  her.  She  knew  she  could  do  so  with  safety 
in  the  twilight. 

"And  you  have  eaten  nothing  all  day,"  continued 
Salka,  severely.  ^Do  you  want  to  turn  the  house  into 
a  hospital  ?  " 

"  No,  and  that's  why  I  don't  eat  when  my  appetite 
plays  truant." 

"  So  you  admit  that ?  "  said  Salka,  quickly;  "  then  I 
believe  my  suspicion  is  correct." 

"What  suspicion?"  asked  Zillah,  sitting  up  sud 
denly. 

"  You  are,  after  all,  eager  to  see  this  intended  hus 
band  of  yours;  I  can  imagine  that  interfering  with 
your  appetite." 

Zillah  did  not  reply;  she  was  recovering  breath.  But 
Salka  mistook  her  silence. 

"Did  I  not  know  it?"  she  went  on  hastily.    "It 


STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

merely  needed  a  little  time  to  get  yourself  reconciled 
to  the  idea.  Yesterday  the  look  in  your  eyes  was  that 
Of  apprehension,  to-day  it  is  impatience." 

"And  to-morrow  it  will  be  neither,  little  spy;  and 
you  will  have  no  chance  of  prying  and  drawing  wrono- 
conclusions.  Shall  I  tell  you  the  truth?  This  in 
tended  husband  of  mine  has  not  cost  me  a  single 
thought.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  on  him." 

"Without  thinking?" 

"  Without  thinking.  I  intend  to  wait  till  the  article 
arrives  and  put  the  label  on  it  then." 

"Zillah,  don't  talk  like  that;  remember  you  might 
have  to  spend  your  life  in  the  company  of  the  article 
label  and  all." 

"  I  might— I  might  not." 

Zillah  clasped  her  hands  behind  her  head,  and  sat 
back. 

"What  are  you  thinking  of,  Zillah  dear?"  asked 
Salka,  uneasily. 

"If  you  promise  not  to  be  frightened,  I  shall  tell 
you." 

"  Is  it  so  terrible  ?  " 

'•'  That  depends  on  the  way  you  look  at  it.  I  should 
like  to  be  right  out  of  it,  Salka— right  out  of  it." 

"Out  of  what?"  queried  Salka,  pretending  to  be 
calm. 

"  Out  of  this  crawling,  tedious  monotony,  this  fath 
omless  solitude,  this  death-in-life  " 

"Zillah!" 

fOh,  I  know  what  you  mean  by  that;  I  know  it's 
black  sacrilege  to  talk  in  this  way  of  home,  of  Para 
dise,  as  it  should  be.  But  one  can  feel  discontented 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  29 

even  in  Paradise;  Adam  and  Eve  did,  and  I  was  not 
born  quite  so  near  Heaven  as  they  were." 

"  Was  that  what  your  look  meant  ?  " 

"  That  among  other  things.  I  won't  tell  you  what 
other  things.  I  can  hear  your  teeth  chattering  loudly 
enough  as  it  is.  I  ought  not  to  have  answered  you 
at  all.  But  I  could  not  keep  it  back — this  time." 

A  little  sob  came  from  Salka;  then  she  quavered: 

"If  I  know  so  much,  let  me  know  all.  Tell  me, 
little  sister,  what  do  you  want  to  do  ?  " 

"  Go  out  into  the  world  and  wear  coronets." 

"But  you  can  do  that  here;  mother  has  a  beautiful 
little  crown,  the  one,  you  know,  with  the  seven  stones 
that  glitter  red  and  green  and  blue.  And  then  there 
is  her  golden  chain, — thick  as  my  little  finger, — which 
winds  twice  round  the  neck,  and  still  reaches  down  to 
the  waist.  She  would  let  you  wear  them  if  you  asked 
her." 

Gently  Zillah  stroked  the  little  figure  that  had  come 
crouching  towards  her  chair. 

"  You  fluttering  little  stupid,"  she  murmured ;  "  what 
good  would  that  do  ?  What  use  is  the  badge  without 
the  office.  Diadems  mean  rule,  and  power,  and  hom 
age;  but  what  is  there  here  to  rule  except  one's  own 
rebellious  heart,  which  cries  out  with  the  pain  when 
ever  it  has  to  be  bound  with  fetters  ?  And  then  there  is 
the  danger  of  its  dying  with  the  restraint,  and  that 
would  be  a  bad  day  for  you  all.  Salka,  can  you  im 
agine  what  it  is  to  be  near  a  live  thing  with  a  dead 
heart?" 

"  I  cannot  imagine  why  you  should  be  afflicted  with 
thoughts  that  are  so  little  in  keeping  with  your  life," 


30  STRANGLES  AT  THE  GATE 

said  Salka,  wearily.  "  What  has  brought  it  on  you  ? 
Some  trespass  you  have  committed?  Then  it  must 
have  been  a  grievous  one,  since  your  punishment  is  the 
hardest  that  can  fall  to  the  lot  of  a  human  creature — 
to  battle  against  its  destiny." 

"  Ah,  Salka,  but  I  am  not  fighting  against  my  des 
tiny:  I  am  fighting  for  it.  If  you  are  not  given  some 
thing  you  desire,  you  must  try  to  take  it.  Is  not  the 
mere  desire  evidence  that  it  was  meant  to  belong  to 
you?1* 

Salka  shook  her  head. 

"  I  don't  know  how  to  argue  against  you/'  she  said 
sadly;  "I  only  know  you  are  attempting  what  is  im 
possible.  If  there  were  some  hope,  I,  loving  you  as 
I  do,  would  be  the  readiest  to  urge  you  on.  And  now 
you  can  gauge  the  depth  of  my  love  by  my  protest. 
Tell  me — how  is  it  to  be  done  ?  " 

"Yes,  how  is  it  to  be  done?"  repeated  Zillah, 
mechanically. 

"You  see,  I  am  right,"  went  on  Salka,  more  zeal 
ously.  "  Listen  to  me,  sister.  You  are  a  daughter  of 
the  race  that  taught  the  world  what  resignation  means 
— the  secret  of  being  strong  through  weakness  and 
proud  through  humility.  Zillah,  that  secret  is  part 
of  our  heritage;  why  should  you  lack  it?  Look  for  it 
in  yourself,  and  you  will  find  it." 

"  And  when  I  have  found  it  ?  " 

"  You  will  marry  the  man  father  has  chosen  for  you ; 
it  is  he  whom  you  will  make  your  vassal.  He  will  put  a 
queen's  crown  on  your  head  and  worship  you." 

"  And  will  he  expect  me  to  do  nothing  in  return  ?  " 

"Nothing — except  to  make  him  happy." 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  31 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  he  would  expect  that/'  said  Zillah, 
reflectively;  "he  would  almost  be  able  to  claim  it  as  a 
right.  But  the  exchange  is  not  fair;  his  task  would 
be  easier  than  mine." 

"  How  can  you  tell  ?  "  asked  Salka,  eagerly.  "  Time 
will  drive  your  strange  fancies  out  of  your  head;  you 
will  begin  to  take  pride  in  your  household,  in  your 
husband's  affairs,  and  when  the  little  ones  arrive " 

"  I  hear  voices,  but  the  rest  is  darkness/'  said  some 
one  from  the  door. 

Salka  started  up  with  a  little  scream,  but  Zillah 
kept  her  seat.  Nay,  her  tone  was  quiet  and  common 
place,  as  she  said: 

"Make  a  light,  Salka;  that  rascal  of  a  Yeiteles  is 
late,  as  usual,  on  his  errands.  I  suppose  he  has  looked 
in  at  his  mother's." 

While  she  spoke,  Salka  had  lit  the  two  gas-jets'  of 
which  the  shop  boasted.  There  on  the  doorstep,  smil 
ing  and  blinking  with  the  sudden  glare,  stood  the 
Commissioner. 

"I  am  something  of  an  apparition,  evidently,  but 
that  is  the  fault  of  the  surroundings,"  he  said  genially, 
showing  his  white  teeth.  "  I  want  to  settle  that  debt 
of  mine  badly — it  has  been  giving  me  pangs  of  con 
science.  Permit  me." 

He  held  the  coin  out  to  Zillah,  who  took  it  silently. 

"I  should  have  called  before,  but  I  couldn't,"  he 
went  on.  "  A  political  infidel,  for  whose  society  the 
police  felt  very  anxious,  wriggled  himself  across  the 
frontier,  and  I  had  to  take  a  trip  into  Prussia  to  escort 
him  back." 

Salka  stood  rigid  at  the  counter,  staring  large-eyed 
at  the  intruder.  Zillah  saw  the  stare. 


32  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"I  forgot  to  tell  you,  Salka,"  she  explained  hur 
riedly.  "This  gentleman  gave  us  the  honor  of  his 
patronage  the  other  day,  and  had  no  change  at  the 
time." 

The  young  man  had  followed  her  glance. 
"  Your  sister,  I  suppose  ?  "  he  said. 
Zillah  nodded  and  flushed  with  embarrassment;  was 
he  going  to  let  slip  anything  about  their  chance  meet 
ing  in  the  forest  the  day  before?  She  would  prefer 
very  much  that  Salka  should  hear  of  it — if  she  heard 
at  all— from  her  own  lips,  and  without  witnesses.  But 
the  Commissioner  had  not  in  vain  learnt  logic  at  col 
lege;  from  Zillah's  reticence  about  his  first  appear 
ance,  he  deduced  she  had  not  mentioned  the  second. 
In  short,  she  had  made  a  secret  of  it,  and  the  fact 
pleased  him  mightily.  And  so  his  next  words  re 
assured  her. 

"  What  a  dreary  little  place  this  is,"  he  said,  address 
ing  himself  to  Zillah.  "  I  can  find  absolutely  nobody 
to  talk  to,  so  out  of  sheer  desperation  I  took  a  spin  on 
my  nag  yesterday,  thinking  my  good  luck  lay  outside  it. 
I  was  right.  I  got  some  fine  views.  I  also  met  one  or 
two  interesting  people.  It  was  very  enjoyable." 

"  How  could  it  be  otherwise — out  in  the  sunshine  ?  " 
said  Zillah.  It  was  quite  safe  to  say  that. 

"It  did  not  depend  on  the  sunshine,"  he  replied, 
his  eyes  fastened  on  hers.  "It  was  the  mood.  Just 
then  I  felt  I  could  have  passed  a  night  in  a  Carpathian 
snowdrift  and  thought  I  was  sleeping  on  eiderdown. 
Pity  these  moods  come  so  rarely,  and  then  only  by 
accident." 

Zillah  did  not  avoid  his  gaze;  it  did  her  good — it 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  33 

made  her  heart  glow.  And  the  covert  meaning  of  his 
words !  She  suddenly  realized,  as  he  already  had  done, 
that  there  was  a  secret  between  her  and  this  man,  and 
the  thought  did  not  make  her  quail;  but  it  kept  her 
silent. 

"  Does — does  the  gentleman  want  to  buy  anything 
to-night?"  faltered  Salka.  Her  bewilderment  was 
making  havoc  of  her  comprehension.  This  man,  this 
stranger — this  Gentile,  was  conversing  with  her  sister 
familiarly  like  an  old  acquaintance.  And  her  sister 
betrayed  no  astonishment,  no  resentment  at  the  fact. 

"  That  is  a  pretty  broad  hint,"  he  said,  turning  to 
her  good-humoredly,  "and  it  comes  just  in  time. 
The  passenger  train  from  Eiga  arrives  in  ten  minutes, 
and  I  must  be  at  the  station  to  examine  the  passports. 
By  the  way " — he  faced  Zillah — "  you  implied  you 
were  fond  of  the  sunshine.  If  you  will  take  the  ad 
vice  of  an  experienced  man,  you  will  find  that  there  is 
no  better  way  of  enjoying  it  than  by  taking  a  walk  in 
some  shady  place — a  forest-road  by  preference — be 
tween  the  hours  of  two  and  three  in  the  afternoon. 
Good  evening,  ladies." 

He  walked  out,  and  left  silence  behind  him. 

Salka  spoke  first.  "What  does  he  mean,  Zillah?" 
she  asked,  her  face  and  voice  full  of  puzzled  anxiety. 

"How  should  I  know?"  replied  Zillah,  pettishly. 
"  Any  one  would  think  from  your  question  that  I  had 
a  most  intimate  acquaintance  with  his  way  and  manner 
of  speaking." 

"  But  you  are  so  much  cleverer  than  I — that's  why 
I  asked." 

"  Well,  then,  I  take  it  he  was  simply  laughing  at  us ; 


34  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

he  was  telling  us  something  every  child  knows,  and 
then  intended  us  to  be  impressed  by  his  abstruse 
wisdom." 

"  You  are  right,  Zillah;  you  are  always  right/'  said 
Salka,  with  a  deep  breath,  as  though  her  mind  were 
disburdened  of  some  great  uneasiness.  "He  was 
merely  laughing  at  us;  he  did  it  before,  when  he  was 
talking  about  his  moods.  Let  him— you  don't  care, 
Zillah,  do  you  ?  " 

"  Not  in  the  least,"  and  Zillah  shrugged  her  should 
ers  for  emphasis;  "let  him  scoff.  He  thinks  we  are 
lawful  spoil  for  ridicule.  Has  the  world  not  tried  to 
scoff  us  out  of  existence  these  many  centuries?  An 
other  jeer  or  two  will  do  us  no  harm." 

Then  Salka  went  upstairs  to  attend  her  patient,  and 
Zillah  turned  the  gas  low,  and  pulled  her  chair  to  the 
door,  where  she  sat  looking  into  and  listening  to  the 
star-lit  night.  But  really  she  was  thinking  of  the 
Commissioner  and  his  theory  on  the  sunshine,  and 
wondered  since  when  she  had  learnt  to  lie  to  her  sister 
so  lightheartedly. 

Yeiteles  was  late  that  evening.  He  had  not  been 
to  see  his  mother — he  had  been  playing  soldiers  with 
the  other  boys.  His  guilty  conscience  made  him  ex 
pect  much  scolding  and  little  supper.  But  Zillah  only 
said: 

"  Close  up  the  shop,  and  then  there  is  a  piece  of 
cold  fowl  for  you.  You  will  find  it  in  the  forest  road 
— I  mean  in  the  pantry." 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  35 


THE  Commissioner  was  strolling  up  and  down  the  alley 
of  trees  which  formed  the  vestibule  of  the  forest. 
This  was  the  third  afternoon  he  did  so.  The  sun  was 
hot  overhead,  but  he  did  not  seem  to  mind  that. 
Occasionally  he  walked  right  to  the  top  of  the  approach, 
whence  he  could  peer  down  the  row  of  houses,  and 
stood  watching  for  five  minutes  at  a  stretch.  Then 
he  shook  his  head,  and  resumed  his  ambulatory  activ 
ity.  People  passed  him,  made  a  low  reverence,  and 
went  on  hastily;  it  was  not  politic  to  show  curiosity  in 
a  Commissioner's  movements,  especially  when  he  was 
looking  serious  and  preoccupied.  But  the  birds  up 
in  the  branches  were  not  afraid  of  him;  they  kept  on 
hopping  and  twittering  quite  unconcernedly,  just  to 
show  the  human  race  what  a  good  thing  it  was  to  be 
a  bird — sometimes.  But  it  was  just  as  well  for  them 
that  the  Commissioner  did  not  hear  enough  of  them 
to  disturb  him,  otherwise  they  might  have  made 
acquaintance  with  the  revolver  which  he  kept  in  his 
pocket,  and  which  he  knew  how  to  handle.  He  was 
listening  to  a  voice  much  more  musical  than  theirs; 
it  was  less  than  a  week  since  he  had  first  heard  that 
voice,  and  already  it  seemed  to  him  that  by  compari 
son  with  it  all  other  melodies  were  jangled  discords. 

And  therefore  he  had  done  sentry  duty  here  for 
three  days  in  succession,  in  order  that  he  might  listen 
to  it  again.  She  had  not  come — his  patient  waiting 
had  been  in  vain.  But  not  all  in  vain.  The  long 
solitary  ambushes  had  done  their  work  effectually — 
they  had  been  to  him  a  trap  and  a  snare  from  which 
he  could  no  longer  struggle  loose.  How  they  had  grip- 


36  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

ped  him  and  entangled  him,,  these  meshes  of  memory 
and  longing!  Several  times  he  had  attempted  to  rend 
them,  and  give  himself  liberty,  till  he  saw  the  hopeless 
ness  of  the  effort :  was  he  not  his  own  captor  as  well  as 
prisoner  ? 

And  that  being  so,  he  started  again  to  wonder  why 
she  did  not  come,  until  his  heart  was  one  agonizing 
query.  He  might  have  gone  to  the  shop  to  ask  her, 
but  that  would  be  humiliating;  he  would  not  risk  his 
pride  so  far — no,  were  she  a  hundred  times  more  beau 
tiful.  Had  she  not  understood  his  hint,  she  who  had 
shown  herself  adept  in  letting  her  meaning  peep  skil 
fully  from  under  the  mask  of  words?  And  then  a 
sudden  thought  made  him  bite  his  lip :  had  it  all  been 
only  a  trick  of  practiced  coquetry?  If  it  was,  what 
would  he  do  to  her — what  could  he  do  to  her  ?  Harass 
her  and  her  people  with  petty  indignities  and  annoy 
ances,  such  as  it  was  in  his  power  to  inflict?  He 
laughed  at  the  notion;  if  he  had  been  made  ridiculous 
in  her  eyes,  he  might  at  least  preserve  his  self-respect 
in  his  own.  Better  not  think  of  it  at  all— better  think 
of  the  great  luminous  Madonna-eyes,  from  which  truth 
had  looked  at  him  if  ever  it  had  faced  him  out  of 
human  countenance.  And  was  he  not  right?  His 
heart  leapt  exultantly,  for  round  the  bend  of  the  road 
a  pink  parasol  came  floating  towards  him,  shading  a  tall 
willowy  figure — one  would  think  it  not  so  much  a 
shade  as  an  aureole.  Quickly  he  strode  towards  her; 
her  hand  lay  in  his — she  knew  not  how. 

"We  are  fated  to  meet,"  she  said,  smiling  tremu 
lously. 

"Why    will    you    dissemble ?"    he    asked,    almost 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  37 

roughly.  "  You  know  this  is  a  fate  of  our — of  my  mak 
ing.  Why  did  you  not  come  yesterday,  and  before  ?  " 

"You  forget  my  time  is  not  my  own;  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  business — who  was  to  attend  to  it?" 

Her  lashes  were  on  her  cheek;  so  she  could  best  tell 
her  falsehood.  Could  she  disclose  to  him  why  she 
had  not  come  before?  Could  she  avow  the  soul-dis 
tracting  struggle  she  had  lived  through  in  those  days  ? 
In  the  sunshine  and  in  the  darkness,  in  her  waking 
hours  and  in  her  slumber,  she  had  wrestled  with  her 
self  as  with  a  deadly  enemy.  And  now  it  was  ended. 
Should  she  count  it  victory  or  disaster?  It  seemed 
almost  ungrateful  to  ask,  because,  whichever  it  was,  it 
was  fraught  with  delight  ineffable.  What  mattered  it 
whether  it  was  the  gladness  of  triumph  or  the  sweet 
ness  of  surrender  ?  And  so  she  had  ceased  to  question, 
and  had  gone  forth  with  the  spirit  of  prophecy  upon 
her,  for  she  knew  she  would  find  him  here. 

He  seemed  to  read  as  much  in  her  face,  for  he  said: 

"You  had  faith  in  me;  I  feel  honored — I  thank 
you.  But  it  was  just  as  well  you  did  not  strain  your 
belief  to  its  utmost.  I  should  have  come  again  to 
morrow,  and  the  following  day,  and  perhaps  yet  once 
again;  but  after " 

"After,  you  would  have  mounted  your  horse,  and 
have  taken  a  spin  across  country.  That  is  all." 

"  It  might  be  all;  I  put  myself  the  question  a  little 
before  you  came,  and  dared  not  answer  it.  And  now," 
his  eyes  flashed,  "  and  now  it  requires  no  answering — 
not,  at  least,  for  the  present.  It's  a  fool  that  haggles 
with  the  golden  present  about  the  future." 

"A  fool,"  she  echoed;  but  it  was  not  so  much  in 


38  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

corroboration  as  in  misgiving.  She  could  not  afford 
to  ignore  the  future — not  for  very  long;  it  might  turn 
out  to  have  been  bought  very  dear  with  the  gold  of 
the  present. 

"Come  out  of  this  glare/'  he  said  buoyantly;  "I 
can  feel  the  freckle  microbes  whisking  about  thick  as 
hail;  they  make  short  work  of  peach-bloom — come." 

She  followed  him  unresistingly,  with  a  half  smile 
at  his  compliment;  and  as  the  trees  closed  round  them, 
closer  and  yet  closer,  a  sullen  anger  came  into  her 
heart  at  her  own  folly  for  having  thrust  off  from  her 
this  happiness  for  three  long  days — a  prodigal,  useless 
sacrifice.  Once  or  twice  she  stumbled  amid  the  tangle 
of  the  creepers,  but  she  refused  the  arm  he  proffered 
her.  No,  not  touch  him — that  would  be  unwise.  It 
would  remind  her  too  clearly  whence  she  derived  her 
joy,  and  that  it  was  iniquitous.  Afterwards,  perhaps — 
when  she  had  entirely  forgotten  to  think,  and  could 
only  feel. 

"  You  have  told  me  nothing  of  yourself,  of  your 
people/'  he  said,  as  soon  as  they  had  come  to  a  little 
clearing. 

"  Because  there  is  nothing  to  tell.  My  mother  has 
been  bedridden  for  years;  my  father  is  a  good  deal 
from  home;  my  sister  you  know." 

"A  remarkable  family  history,"  he  laughed;  "but 
no  doubt  the  historian  will  make  up  for  its  brevity 
by  discussing  herself  in  more  detail." 

"  I  never  talk  of  myself." 

"  I  see,"  he  bantered,  "  from  an  overwhelming  sense 
of  modesty;  you  could  say  nothing  about  yourself  that 
would  not  redound  to  your  credit.  Then  nothing  re- 


DATTGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  39 

mains  for  me  but  to  discover  these  excellencies  for 
myself.  I  shall  be  very  searching,  I  warn  you." 

"  The  search  will  take  you  a  long  time." 

"  The  longer  the  better."  He  remembered  some 
thing,  and  his  face  clouded.  "  And  yet,"  he  went  on 
slowly,  "  I  may  have  to  break  it  off  suddenly.  My 
stay  here  is  precarious.  Any  moment — what  a  fool  I 
am;  I  speak  of  having  to  leave  you,  and  here  I  go 
wasting  precious  time  in  idle  apprehension.  Quick, 
what  shall  we  talk  about  ?  " 

ee  Tell  me  about  the  beautiful  women  you  have  seen," 
she  answered  quickly. 

"  Did  I  say  I  had  seen  beautiful  women  ?  It  must 
have  been  an  optical  illusion,  or  at  least  a  grave  error 
of  judgment.  I  apologize  to  you." 

"  Don't  jest — I  am  serious." 

"  Then  I  hasten  to  be  serious  as  well,"  he  said,  with 
a  lingering  glance  at  her;  she  felt  it,  though  she  did 
not  see  it.  "  I  shall  tell  you  about  one  of  them  in 
particular;  I  forget  where  I  saw  her — in  some  big  city. 
She  had  come  there  goodness  knows  from  what  God- 
forgotten  solitude.  A  week  after  her  arrival  she  was 
famous.  She  passed  from  palace  to  palace  with  a 
retinue  of  slaves.  They  had  left  their  studies,  their 
easels,  their  barracks,  their  counting-houses  to  follow 
her  wherever  she  went,  for  to  look  at  she  was  like  the 
morning  star.  But  more  than  all,  her  husband  loved 
her  as  his  very  life,  and  earth  to  her  was  heaven." 

"  And  what  became  of  her  ?  "  whispered  Zillah. 

"  You  think  there  ought  to  be  a  climax  to  all  this  ? 
But  there  is  not.  She  just  came  into  my  mind  because 
you  asked  me." 


40  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Was  she,  too,  of  the  sad-faced  ones  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  looked  sad,  but  only  with  excess  of  her 
happiness;  she  had  so  much  and  others  so  little.  Or, 
perhaps,  springing  from  a  race  that  believes  in  the 
evil  eye,  she  was  afraid  lest  her  joy  should  have  a 
downfall  if  she  paraded  it,  and  therefore  she  feigned 
the  sadness  she  did  not  feel/' 

"  Are  you  sure  it  was  feigned  ?  "  asked  Zillah,  star 
ing  before  her.  "  Perhaps  she  had  brought  to  the 
palaces  only  half  a  heart;  the  other  half  she  might 
have  left  behind  in  the  solitude  whence  she  came." 

"  At  first  it  might  have  been  real/'  he  replied,  after 
a  little  thought ;  "  but  when  one  has  once  survived  this 
cleavage  of  the  heart,  it  grows  again  rapidly,  until 
there  is  not  even  a  scar  to  show  where  it  had  been 
sundered." 

Zillah  roused  herself — she  was  getting  afraid,  sorely 
afraid;  his  words  seemed  to  come  home  to  her  so  very 
closely,  as  though  they  were  the  answer  to  her  inmost 
questionings.  She  must  not  listen  to  such  answers, 
not  when  they  came  from  any  one  save  herself. 

"Why  do  we  talk  so  solemnly?"  she  said  with  a 
little  laugh.  "  Doesn't  it  feel  like  desecrating  all  this 
gladness  and  glory  around  us  ?  " 

"You  distract  me,"  he  exclaimed  in  mock  despair. 
"  Just  before  you  complained  of  my  jesting,  and  now 
you  are  displeased  at  my  seriousness.  I  shall  be  silent 
altogether." 

But  Zillah  felt  that  the  silence  would  be  more  peril 
ous  than  talk  of  any  kind.  And  so  she  got  him  into 
swing  again  on  indifferent  topics.  But  even  with  such 
the  time  can  slip  away  very  quickly,  and  when  they  had 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  41 

made  their  way  back  to  the  avenue  of  trees,  Zillah 
realized  with  a  start  that  the  vanguard  shadows  of  the 
dusk  were  upon  them. 

"  When  are  you  coming  again  ?  "  he  asked,  holding 
her  back  almost  by  force. 

"To-morrow,  or  the  day  after— I  can't  tell,"  she 
murmured,  struggling  to  get  her  hand  loose. 

"  Listen.  My  orderly  will  come  to  the  shop  every 
morning  to  make  a  purchase;  you  can  give  him  the 
message.  But  it  must  be  soon — do  you  hear  ? — soon !  " 

He  released  her,  and  kissed  his  fingers,  still  warm 
from  the  contact  with  hers.  She  did  not  see  the  ges 
ture,  because  she  was  speeding  on  in  front.  She  was 
running  away  from,  the  fleet-footed  fear  that  had 
tracked  her  home  the  last  time  she  left  him. 

Five  minutes  after  she  stood  again  in  the  shop. 

"Miss  Zillah  has  come/'  shouted  Yeiteles  up  the 
staircase. 

And  before  Zillah  could  ask  him  to  explain  the 
reason  of  his  vociferousness,  Salka  had  hurried  down 
full  speed. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  she  queried  excitedly. 
"  We  have  been  looking  for  you  everywhere." 

"  I "  began  Zillah. 

But  Salka  did  not  give  her  time  for  another  syllable. 
"Here  is  a  letter  from  father;  he  has  finished  his 
business  more  quickly  than  he  expected,  and  is  coming 
home  to-night.  You  must  help  me  prepare  for  them." 

"Them?"  asked  Zillah. 

"  Yes,  have  you  forgotten  ?  " 

The  truth  was,  Zillah  had  forgotten. 


42  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

VI 

THE  sick-room  upstairs  had  undergone  so  complete  a 
transformation  that  it  was  probably  troubled  with 
doubts  as  to  its  identity.  It  had  taken  to  itself  a 
cheerful  and  festive  look.  The  cumbrous  invalid 
couch  had  been  pushed  into  a  corner,  and  concealed 
from  view  by  thick  and  many-hued  hangings.  In  the 
centre  stood  a  stout  mahogany  table,  clothed  in  gleam 
ing  napery;  upon  it,  beginning  with  a  pedestal  of 
porcelain,  upreared  itself  the  lamp  of  massive  bronze, 
with  a  silver  candlestick  planted  on  each  side  for 
adjutant. 

Salka  was  in  the  kitchen  seeing  to  the  last  batch  of 
her  fritters  in  an  agony  of  trepidation.  Zillah's  assist 
ance  had  proved  worse  than  useless,  and  after  upset 
ting  a  basket  of  eggs,  and  almost  producing  an 
irremediable  catastrophe  in  the  cheese-cakes  by  hand 
ing  the  salt  when  Salka  had  asked  her  for  sugar,  she 
had  been  ignominiously  informed  that  her  further 
services  could  be  dispensed  with.  She  had  submitted 
to  the  disgrace  with  cordial  indifference.  She  had  felt 
more  or  less  an  automaton  from  the  moment  she  had 
received  the  news  of  what  was  in  store  for  her  that 
evening.  And  now  she  sat  in  the  transfigured  sick 
room,  alone  with  her  mother — the  latter  solicitously 
bestowed  in  the  wool-stuffed  arm-chair.  Zillah  kept 
close  to  the  chimney  nook,  because  that  was  the  spot 
into  which  all  the  shadows  had  crowded.  She  was 
more  comfortable  among  the  shadows. 

"  They  are  late,  are  they  not  ?  "  said  the  invalid. 

It  was  the  third  time  she  had  asked  the  question, 
and  each  time  Zillah  had  replied  patiently,  as  she  did 
now: 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  43 

"  No,  mother — the  train  does  not  arrive  till  a  quarter 
to  nine;  it  isn't  that  yet,  and,  besides,  we  shall  hear 
the  engine  whistle  as  it  steams  into  the  station." 

"To  be  sure,  to  be  sure,"  murmured  the  sufferer. 
"I  cannot  see  your  face,  child,  but  I  know  you  are 
pleased." 

"Of  course  I  am  pleased,  little  mother;  do  we  not 
always  consider  it  a  sort  of  festival  when  father  comes 
home  ?  » 

"  And  this  time  more  than  all  others.  Why  don't 
you  say  what  is  itching  on  the  tip  of  your  tongue? 
But  it  was  the  same  with  me  when  Anshel  came  the 
first  time.  How  I  remember  it!  I  was  sitting  in  a 
corner,  just  as  you  are  now,  only  that  I  was  pretending 
to  be  busy  mending  socks.  And  the  youngsters — there 
were  more  of  them  than  you  are  here — the  youngsters 
were  huddling  at  the  other  end  of  the  room,  giggling 
and  whispering  mischievously;  and  Yekel,  the  eldest 
and  wildest  of  them — he  has  been  quiet  enough  these 
many  years  under  the  sward  away  in  the  Caucasus — 
aye,  Yekel  I  remember  it  was  who  struck  up  suddenly : 
*  Every  maid  a  sweetheart  has,  I  alone  have  none/  as 
the  old  song  goes.  And  then  the  others  burst  out 
laughing,  while  I  sat  trembling  with  fear  and  vexation, 
till,  to  make  things  worse,  I  pricked  my  thumb  with 
the  darning-needle  and  ran  from  the  room,  sobbing 
angrily.  You  see,  my  daughter,  these  things  are  no 
secret  to  me;  you  need  not  hide  your  feelings  so 
jealously." 

Zillah  writhed  as  though  the  chair  on  which  she  sat 
had  become  a  rack.  But  she  held  herself  in  check, 
and  turned  lovingly  to  her  mother — this  poor  unsus 
pecting  mother  whom  happiness  made  so  garrulous. 


44  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  grudge  you  anything  ?  "  she 
smiled.  "  If  I  felt  what  you  think,  would  I  be  chary 
of  letting  you  see  it  ?  " 

"  Ah,  then  you  do  not  feel  it  ?  "  came  the  query,  full 
of  sadness  and  disappointment. 

"  How  can  I  ?  Mother,  you  will  not  blame  me  for 
letting  my  heart  go  at  its  own  speed,  before  I  know 
that  I  can  safely  give  it  the  rein.  Would  you  have 
me  whip  it  ?  " 

"You  are  different,  Zillah,  different  to  what  I  was. 
I  loved  my  husband  before  I  saw  him,  because  in  loving 
him  I  was  obeying  the  commandment  that  bids  us 
honor  our  parents.  Well,  what  is  to  be  shall  be/' 

Zillah  looked  at  her  with  the  same  smile;  she  could 
not  divest  herself  of  it,  for  it  had  become  frozen  on 
her  face.  And  this  was  only  the  beginning;  from  this 
torment  there  could  be  no  escape  till  that  further 
agony,  to  which  the  present  would  be  as  a  garden  of 
roses  to  a  bed  of  brambles.  And  over  it  all  was  to  be 
the  mask  of  her  smile,  like  a  "  Welcome  "  written  over 
the  entrance  to  a  charnel-house;  and  before  it  her 
dear  ones  would  stand,  singing  songs  of  gladness,  and 
not  knowing  that  they  were  recalling  the  dead  rem 
nants  of  her  feelings  to  life  only  in  order  to  make  them 
writhe  afresh. 

Desperately  her  lips  struggled  to  frame  an  answer, 
but  she  was  saved  the  trouble.  The  invalid  suddenly 
sat  up — her  ears,  tight-strung  by  the  peg  of  suffering, 
had  caught  the  screech  of  the  approaching  train. 

"  In  ten  minutes  they  will  be  here,"  she  said  rapidly. 
"Now  you  shall  see,  Zillah.  Quick,  set  the  chairs 
straight — the  lamp-shade  is  a  little  to  one  side.  If 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  45 

only  my  limbs  were  strong  enough  to  carry  me  as  far 
as  the  door  to  give  him  greeting  the  moment  he  enters," 
she  sighed;  "but,  please  God,  I  shall  dance  at  your 
wedding,  Zillah,  as  lightly  as  I  did  at  my  own — the 
Cossack  dance,  your  father  and  I — and  you  and  Salka 

will  stand  by  clapping  your  hands.     How  I  remember 

)) 

And  then  she  rambled  back  into  the  distant  past, 
going  over  the  old  well-worn  details  which  always  were 
a  fresh  delight  to  her  listening  children.  But  now 
they  came  on  Zillah's  dazed  senses  as  the  murmuring 
of  far-off  waters.  If  only  she  could  keep  like  that — 
hear  nothing,  feel  nothing,  know  nothing.  No;  pres 
ently  she  would  have  to  become  alive.  What,  so  soon  ? 
Could  they  not  give  her  a  little  more  respite,  only  a 
very  little  ?  Down  below  in  the  street  were  heard  the 
footfalls  of  men  walking  rapidly — aye,  two  men;  now 
they  were  halting  at  the  door,  and  the  next  moment 
Salka's  joyous  cry  of  "  Father ! "  rang  out  as  in 
triumph. 

Zillah  rose,  her  nerves  firm,  her  gaze  steady.  Was 
she  a  child  ?  Would  she  let  this  stranger  frighten  her 
from  her  duty  of  going  to  meet  her  father  open- 
armed  ?  •  If  she  showed  herself  craven  even  before  she 
was  fronting  the  foe,  what  would  be  the  issue  of  the 
conflict?  But  her  resolution  had  come  too  late;  be 
fore  she  reached  the  door  it  had  already  opened,  and 
her  father  stepped  in,  flushed  and  eager. 

"Now,  this  is  what  I  call  honoring  a  guest/'  he 
cried,  the  glow  on  his  face  deepening  with  pleasure 
as  he  noted  the  inviting  appearance  of  the  chamber; 
"  I  accept  the  compliment,  even  though  I  have  a  sus- 


46  STKANGEBS  AT  THE  GATE 

picion  it  isn't  all  meant  for  me.  Esther,  you  are 
looking  twenty  years  younger,  and  are  getting  strong 
as  a  lion,  Salka  tells  me." 

Then  he  turned  to  Zillah. 

"  You  have  been  taking  care  of  mother  ?  "  he  whis 
pered,  kissing  her;  "that  is  right,  and  for  reward  I 
have  brought  some  one  to  take  care  of  you." 

And  then  Zillah  noted  with  a  fugitive  glance  the 
figure  still  and  motionless  in  the  doorway. 

Anshel  looked  round. 

"  Where  are  you,  Enoch  ?  "  he  exclaimed.  "  We  are 
coming  to  a  fine  state  of  things  when  men  like  you  are 
afraid  to  show  their  faces." 

And  the  next  thing  Zillah  knew  was  that  her  father 
had  led  the  stranger  to  her  side,  holding  him  by  the 
hand,  and  was  saying: 

"  Zillah,  this  is  Enoch  Gontaller.  When  you  were 
yet  in  your  cradle  his  father's  name  had  already 
travelled  to  the  four  corners  of  the  world.  It  is  a 
name  to  be  proud  of,  and  the  son  is  worthy  of  the 
father;  need  I  say  more?  Come,  Enoch,  this  is  my 
wife — and  now  you  know  us  all.  You  have  had  a 
silent  welcome,  but  that  is  only  because  it  comes  so 
deep  from  the  heart." 

Zillah  turned  pale  to  the  lips.  So  this  was  the  high 
honor  at  which  her  father  had  hinted — the  alliance 
with  the  house  of  the  great  Eabbi-Talmudist.  Ah, 
that  made  everything  more  difficult!  She  wanted  to 
go  on  thinking  how  much  more  difficult,  but  her 
father's  last  words,  which  had  sounded  almost  like  a 
reproach,  recalled  her. 

"You  have  had  a  wearisome  journey,"  she  said  to 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  47 

the  guest,  her  eyes  downcast;  "  pray  be  seated,  and  give 
us  your  indulgence  for  a  few  minutes.  We  shall  soon 
have  our  best  ready  for  you." 

He  did  not  seem  to  hear  her;  he  remained  standing, 
his  melancholy  eyes,  luminous  in  their  blackness,  riv 
eted  upon  her.  Anshel  shot  a  quick  side-glance  at 
him;  it  was  a  good  sign,  this  silence  of  his — it  spoke 
many  things.  And  so  it  was  with  a  smile  of  pleasure 
that  he  took  up  the  conversation. 

"You  did  not  expect  us  quite  so  early,  I  suppose? 
You  almost  did  right  there.  For  if  we  are  here  now, 
it  is  something  of  a  miracle.  No,  there  was  no 
danger,"  he  interrupted  himself  in  answer  to  his  wife's 
anxious  look  of  inquiry,  "  but — well,  here  is  the  whole 
thing  as  it  happened.  I  was  coming  from  Berditcheff, 
where  I  had  stayed  several  days,  and  where  Enoch 
joined  me.  To  save  delay,  we  travelled  by  the  next 
train  that  was  available,  and  I  had  no  time  to  get  my 
passport  countersigned  by  the  police.  But  that  did 
not  trouble  me,  because  old  Tomalov,  the  Police  Com 
missioner  here,  and  I — well,  it  would  not  be  the  first 
time  we  had  settled  such  a  matter  by  accommodation. 
And  it  was  not  till  the  train  stopped  at  Bogilno,  three 
stations  from  here,  that  I  heard  he  was  dead,  and 
that  his  successor  had  been  appointed.  You  can 
imagine  I  did  not  bless  the  tidings.  I  did  what  I 
could.  First  I  counted  out  a  hundred  roubles  for  an 
emergency;  and  secondly,  I  took  out  the  Book  of 
Psalms,  and  made  good  use  of  it  till  we  arrived  here. 
Outside  the  gendarmerie  stood  the  new  Commissioner. 
I  don't  know  whether  you  have  seen  him,  Zillah — he  is 
tall,  with  an  iron  look  on  his  face.  My  heart  sank; 


48  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

already  I  saw  myself  in  the  train  back  on  my  way  to 
Berditcheff  to  get  my  passport  signed.  I  handed  it  to 
him,  such  as  it  was;  he  glanced  at  it,  and  his  brow 
wrinkled.  Suddenly  it  became  smooth  again.  'Is 
your  name  Markovitz  ? '  he  asked.  I  told  him  it  was. 
4  Do  you  keep  a  cheese  and  herring  store  ?  '  he  went  on. 
'I  do,  your  Honor/  I  replied  in  astonishment — how 
did  he  know  ?  '  Your  passport  is  quite  in  order,  you 
may  go/  he  said  pleasantly.  Is  it  not  miraculous  ?  " 
And  Anshel  expanded  his  broad  chest  to  recoup  him 
self  for  the  breath  he  had  consumed  in  the  narrative. 

"  It  is,  indeed,  strange/'  replied  Zillah,  to  whom  the 
last  query  had  been  addressed ;  "  and  yet — considering 
you  were  repeating  psalms  all  the  time  .  .  .  ." 

Anshel  tapped  his  forehead  and  looked  at  Enoch. 

"  And  so  a  woman  has  shamed  us  men  in  under 
standing,"  he  said  almost  solemnly. 

Enoch  cleared  his  throat  of  some  imaginary  obstacle 
before  he  answered;  his  voice  was  as  dreamy  as  his 
eyes.  "  Perhaps  you  take  that  for  a  still  greater 
miracle/'  he  said;  "to  me  it  is  only  as  it  should  be. 
When  God  has  made  a  thing  that  is  perfect  in  its  out 
ward  semblance,  why  should  He  stop  half-way  and 
not  complete  it  inwardly?  And  because  it  is  not 
always  His  will  to  achieve  His  work,  is  that  any  reason 
to  wonder  when  He  does?" 

A  short  silence  followed  his  words,  and  then  Anshel 
turned  smilingly  to  his  daughter. 

"  What  do  you  say  to  that  ?  "  he  asked. 

"That  the  words  are  ill-applied,"  she  said  with  a 
flush,  perhaps  of  modesty,  but  possibly  of  anger.  "  Our 
guest  puts  too  high  an  estimate  on  me.  I  am  only  a 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  49 

poor  thing  at  best,  full  of  defects  and  blemishes;  if 
he  says  I  am  one  of  those  on  whom  God  has  laid  the 
seal  of  perfection,  he  utters  blasphemy." 

Enoch's  pale  face  became  still  paler,  but  his  eyes 
took  a  new  splendor  to  themselves  as  he  saw  the  flush 
creep  over  her.  Anshel  sat  as  in  a  dream.  The  great 
est  mystery  in  his  life  was  how  it  came  that  such  a 
creature  should  call  him  father ;  and  now  he  thought  it 
time  to  give  up  hope  of  ever  solving  it. 

"You  see,  Enoch,  one  never  knows  when  one  is 
going  to  receive  a  stone  for  one's  bread,"  he  laughed. 

"  And  yet  there  are  cases  where  one  must  offer  the 
bread,  although  one  knows  one  is  going  to  get  a  hail 
storm  of  stones  in  return,"  said  Enoch,  quietly. 

"And  talking  of  bread,  Zillah,  will  you  see  that 
Salka  brings  up  what  there  is  to  eat  ?  "  broke  in  the 
invalid.  The  mother's  eye  had  suddenly  seen  a  look 
of  unutterable  pain  flit  over  her  child's  face.  Yes, 
embarrassment  was  sometimes  a  physical  agony. 

Zillah  obeyed,  and  a  minute  or  two  after,  Salka  and 
Yeiteles,  the  helpful,  brought  up  the  steaming  dishes, 
and  the  homely  clatter  of  plates  frightened  the  spirit 
of  restraint  out  of  the  room.  Anshel's  homespun 
joviality  and  Salka's  merry  prattle  acted  as  a  barricade 
against  its  return.  If  Enoch  was  a  little  monosyllabic, 
and  Zillah  entirely  silent,  it  was  only  natural  under 
the  circumstances.  It  was  also  natural  that  she  should 
withdraw  before  the  others  did,  pleading  a  headache. 
But  had  any  one  seen  her  throw  herself  on  her  bed 
in  a  tempest  of  tears  and  with  disconsolate  wringing  of 
hands,  he  might  have  found  more  reasonable  cause  for 
comment. 


50  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

VII 

"  You  ask  why  a  lender  who  has  taken  security  from 
the  borrower  in  a  piece  of  tillage,  varying  in  quality, 
may  only  claim  in  repayment  of  his  loan  that  portion 
of  the  land  which  is  the  less  productive  ?  "  Enoch  was 
saying  to  Anshel  on  the  second  evening  of  his  visit, 
a  good  while  after  supper  had  been  disposed  of.  "  The 
reason  is  this.  Suppose  a  man  of  affluent  means  should 
desire  for  its  fertility  a  piece  of  the  field  belonging 
to  a  neighbor  who  happens  to  be  in  monetary  straits. 
Well,  this  man  might  say  to  himself :  '  I  shall  inveigle 
my  neighbor  into  taking  a  loan  to  be  repaid  on  a 
certain  day,  and  take  his  estate  for  a  pledge.  And 
then,  by  some  chicanery  or  underhand  act,  I  shall 
make  him  fail  in  the  payment,  so  that  his  lands  might 
become  forfeited,  and  I  might  take  my  choice  of  them/ 
But  then  comes  this  law  of  our  Rabbins,  which  says 
he  may  recoup  himself  only  with  the  inferior  portion 
of  it.  And  in  this  way  there  is  a  curb  laid  on  the 
avarice  of  the  ungodly." 

Anshel  listened  to  him  ecstatically:  this  scholar, 
this  sage,  this  oracle,  who  seemed  able  to  expound  all 
the  secrets  of  heaven  and  earth,  was  to  be  his  son-in- 
law.  Salka  was  also  sitting  at  the  table.  She  was 
not  so  much  listening  to  Enoch's  words  as  looking  at 
his  face,  with  its  eloquent  change  of  expression  and 
the  wonderful  glow  of  his  eyes.  She  marvelled  why 
she  was  watching  it  so  hard.  Zillah  was  seated  near 
the  window,  which  seemed  of  late  to  have  a  peculiar 
fascination  for  her.  She  was  reading  the  new  instal 
ment  of  Spielhagen  which  had  arrived  that  morning. 
She  neither  listened  nor  looked.  Had  she  paid  any 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  51 

attention  at  all,  she  could  not  have  failed  to  notice 
that  very  often  the  sound  of  Enoch's  voice  travelled 
to  her  in  a  straight  line,  although  he  was  sitting  side 
ways.  Even  if  she  had,  she  would  never  have  asso 
ciated  the  fact  with  a  possible  intention  of  Enoch  that 
all  this  store  of  learning  was  to  be  laid  as  a  tribute  at 
her  feet.  But  perhaps  most  women  would  connect 
love-making  more  closely  with  the  rattle  of  spurs  and 
the  clank  of  sabres  than  with  an  exhibition  of  the  most 
brilliant  antics  of  casuistry. 

"  And  now,  Enoch,"  said  Anshel,  "  only  one  question 
more;  the  evening  is  late — see,  mother  has  fallen 
asleep  already.  But  I  would  just  have  you  explain  the 
strange  saying  of  Eabbi  Chaninah  in  the  Treatise  Baba 
Kama;  that  those  who  keep  our  holy  precepts  when 
they  are  enjoined  to  do  so  can  hope  for  greater  reward 
than  those  who  keep  them  when  there  is  no  such  obli 
gation  upon  them.  It  seems  to  me  there  is  more 
merit  in  the  latter  case." 

For  a  moment  or  two  Enoch  wrinkled  his  forehead 
in  thought,  and  then  smiled  as  the  solution  of  the 
problem  flashed  upon  him. 

"Is  not  the  first  instinct  of  man's  nature  that  of 
freedom  ?  "  he  answered.  "  Does  not  every  reasoning 
and  unreasoning  thing  rebel  against  alien  control? 
And  so,  when  we  are  under  a  command  that  enjoins 
a  certain  behest  on  us,  there  is,  as  it  were,  a  yoke  and 
a  shackle  laid  upon  the  very  mainspring  of  our  life, 
for  our  will  and  inclination  may  perhaps  be  carrying 
us  to  the  very  opposite.  Thus  the  obeying  of  the 
injunction  entails  a  certain  amount  of  self-mastery, 
which  makes  it  more  laudable  than  when  it  is  the 
result  of  a  spontaneous  desire." 


52  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

Zillah's  ear  caught  the  concluding  sentence  without 
knowing  from  what  premises  it  was  the  deduction. 
There  seemed  to  be  in  it  something  that  bore  a  special 
significance;  and  with  that  an  involuntary  resentment 
came  over  her.  Yes,  it  might  be  a  grand  and  laudable 
thing  to  make  a  martyr  of  oneself,  but  she  had  lost 
the  taste  for  it.  She  had  done  enough  of  self -master 
ing  in  her  brief  life  to  give  herself  for  once  the  luxury 
of  abandonment. 

The  two  men  and  Salka  had  risen  to  their  feet. 

"  No  doubt  you  think  me  an  exacting  host,"  jested 
Anshel;  "I  make  you  pay  for  my  hospitality  with 
gems  of  wisdom.  Fortunately  you  are  so  well  provided 
with  the  capital  that  there  is  no  fear  of  your  having  to 
turn  bankrupt." 

"You  are  welcome  to  it,"  said  Enoch;  "it  is  a 
pleasure  to  be  prodigal  in  wealth  of  this  sort,  if  one  can 
only  find  a  receiver  for  it.  I  know  it  isn't  current  coin 
everywhere." 

Salka  had  a  tolerable  notion  of  the  particular  bear 
ing  of  his  complaint.  She  said  nothing,  but  she  made 
a  resolution  that  it  should  reach  its  address. 

"Zillah,  our  guest  is  about  to  retire,"  remarked 
Anshel. 

The  remark  was  necessary,  for  Enoch  had  stepped 
close  to  her,  and  she  had  not  lifted  her  head. 

"  Good-night,"  she  murmured  in  confusion.  Per 
haps  it  had  just  struck  her  that,  whatever  else  she 
lacked,  there  was  no  reason  why  she  should  lack  in 
ordinary  courtesy. 

"Good-night,"  he  said  simply:  and  yet  it  was  as 
though  he  had  wanted  to  say  something  more.  But 
the  two  words  had  done  that  without  his  knowing  it. 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  53 

"  It's  a  queer  thing  with  these  women,"  said  Anshel, 
lighting  Enoch  to  his  attic;  "how  skilfully  they  will 
ignore  a  thing  of  which  every  one  knows  they  are 
aware.  And  yet  this  reserve — does  it  not  give  zest  and 
flavor  to  them  ?  " 

"  It  does,  indeed,"  replied  Enoch,  but  only  in  a  half 
hearted  sort  of  way. 

Salka  was  helping  to  bed  her  mother,  who  had  awak 
ened  from  her  doze. 

"  Are  you  comfortable,  little  mother  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Quite,  thank  you." 

"  And  you  will  not  want  anything  else  just  now  ?  " 

"Nothing — except  to  sleep.  You  are  very  good, 
child." 

"  Then  Zillah  may  come  down  with  me  to  the  kitchen 
and  help  me  put  things  in  order  there.  Will  you, 
Zillah?" 

"  Of  course — did  I  ever  refuse  ?  " 

Silently  the  two  sisters  made  their  way  downstairs. 
Zillah  gave  a  little  cry  of  surprise. 

"Why,  everything  is  spick  and  span!  What  else  is 
there  to  do  ?  " 

Salka  smiled  at  the  success  of  her  ruse,  but  imme 
diately  became  grave  again. 

"  We  can't  talk  upstairs,  we  shall  disturb  mother." 

"  Is  there  anything  you  have  to  tell  me  ?  " 

"  So  many  things  that  I  shall  end  by  saying  nothing, 
for  I  don't  know  where  to  begin.  However,  what  hap 
pened  to  you  yesterday  ?  " 

A  great  fear  struck  into  Zillah's  heart.  Had  they 
been  seen — overheard? 

"When?"  she  quavered. 


54  STRANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"In  the  evening." 

"I  told  you  I  had  a  headache;  I  don't  think  that 
requires  much  discussion,"  said  Zillah,  with  a  breath 
of  relief. 

"Listen,  Zillah,"  said  Salka.  "Last  night,  as  I 
came  to  our  room,  I  stooped  over  you  to  kiss  you  in 
your  sleep;  but  on  your  mouth  there  was  such  a 
strange,  cruel  look  that  I  refrained.  I  was  afraid  you 
might  bite  me." 

"  In  my  sleep  ?  "  laughed  Zillah,  but  mirthlessly. 

"  How  did  that  look  come  there  ?  It  was  so  different 
to  the  one  you  brought  home  in  the  afternoon.  It 
seemed  to  me  it  spoke  of  some  terrible  hatred — 
against  us,  perhaps,  Zillah.  It  made  me  cry." 

"  Then  it  served  you  right  for  being  a  little  goose. 
Are  you  sure  you  have  never  seen  me  look  like  that 
when  I  am  awake  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  always  seen  you  beautiful." 

"  If  I  appeared  cruel,  Salka,  have  I  not  cause  for  it  ?" 
broke  out  Zillah,  passionately.  "Am  I  not  cruelly 
dealt  with?  And  though  I  bear  my  mask  of  meekness 
by  day,  can  I  help  it  that  my  thoughts  are  written  on 
my  face  at  night  ?  But  you  need  not  be  afraid  of  me, 
waking  or  sleeping.  When  I  wake,  my  heart  is  full  of 
love  for  you  all;  and  my  dreams  will  not  do  harm  to 
any  one,  save  myself.  Only  you  must  not  begrudge  me 
them." 

"  You  are  talking  wildly,"  moaned  Salka.  "  Who  is 
dealing  cruelly  with  you?  Up  till  yesterday  you  had 
perhaps  some  reason  for  thinking  yourself  aggrieved, 
but  now " 

«  Why  only  till  yesterday?  " 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  55 

"  Because  till  then  I  was  sharing  your  dread  of  the 
stranger  with  whom  you  were  to  couple  your  life.  He 
might  have  turned  out  to  be  a  hunchback,  or  repulsive 
in  face  and  manner — his  father's  fame  and  greatness 
were  no  guarantee  against  that.  But  when  he  is  beau 
tiful  as  an  archangel,  and " 

"  Is  he  beautiful  ?  "  queried  Zillah,  coldly. 

"  You  may  well  ask;  you  have  not  vouchsafed  him 
a  glance  since  his  arrival.  And  therefore  you  have 
not  noticed  how  hungrily  his  gaze  is  bent  on  you,  and 
the  untold  pain  of  his  eyes,  although  his  voice  rings 
so  steady,  and  his  words  show  such  calm  of  self-posses 
sion.  All  the  time  you  sit  poring  over  that  stupid  book 
of  yours — as  though  you  wanted  to  read  yourself  dead." 

"It  does  not  work;  I  have  tried  it." 

"But  it  serves  another  purpose,"  went  on  Salka, 
hotly ;  "  it  keeps  you  from  noticing  your  mother's  silent 
reproach  and  your  father's  wonder  and  embarrassment. 
And  when  I  look  at  him — at  Enoch,  with  his  patient 
smile — the  tears  well  into  my  eyes." 

Zillah  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  she  said  sud 
denly: 

"  I  suppose  our  parents  wish  him  for  a  son-in-law  ?  " 

"  Suppose  ?  "  echoed  Salka,  looking  at  her  sister  as 
if  she  doubted  her  reason. 

"Well,  then,"  continued  Zillah,  calmly,  "have  they 
not  another  daughter  ?  " 

Salka  changed  color  three  times  in  as  many  sec 
onds.  "  You  might  have  spared  me  that,  Zillah," 
came  from  her,  quietly.  "It  sounds  almost  like  a 
taunt.  You  know  that  no  man  who  has  seen  you  and 
me  would  hesitate  about  his  choice.  And  he  has  made 
his,  I  assure  you." 


56  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Zillah  caught  her  in  her  arms,  and  gently  forced  her 
face  up. 

"  Do  you  think  I  should  say  such  a  thing  unless  I 
meant  it  ?  "  she  whispered.  "  Salka,  if  ever  I  wished 
I  were  horrible  as  a  toad  to  look  upon,  I  wish  it  now/' 

The  words  had  broken  from  her  in  the  rush  of  her 
passion,  but  the  next  moment  they  had  rolled  back 
upon  her  as  though  they  knew  they  were  the  false 
echo  of  her  thoughts.  Did  she  really  wish  it?  Was 
it  not  yesterday,  as  she  was  treading  the  forest  shad 
ows,  that,  in  her  heart,  she  had  given  thanks  to  God 
for  her  beauty  ?  Had  there  been  any  reason  that  she 
should  prize  it  then,  and,  if  so,  why  had  she  now  spoken 
of  it  almost  as  a  curse  ? 

"You  see,  Salka,"  she  hurried  on,  "it  could  be 
arranged.  Suppose  father  promised  for  your  dowry 
one  or  two  thousand  roubles  more " 

With  a  strangled  cry  Salka  tore  herself  loose  from 
her  embrace;  then  she  laughed  bitterly. 

"  Do  you  really  think  two  thousand  roubles  will  make 
me  equal  to  you  ?  " 

"  You  are  a  thousand,  thousand  times  better  than 
I  am;  I  am  not  worthy  to  kiss  your  feet,"  came  like 
a  torrent  from  Zillah ;  "  you  love  your  parents,  and  I 
feel  as  though  I  were  their  murderess.  And,  there 
fore,  in  your  thousand-fold  goodness,  I  want  you  to 
do  me  this  service.  Use  all  the  wiles  of  our  woman 
hood;  I  shall  think  them  out  night  and  day,  and  teach 
you  them.  Do  everything  to  make  him  love  you.  You 
will  succeed  I  am  certain.  Oh,  promise  me,  Salka, 
promise  me." 

Salka  shook  her  head.     "  It  is  beyond  us  both/'  she 


DAUGHTBES  OF  SHEM  57 

said  brokenly.  "  Father  says  from  the  moment  he  saw 
your  picture  he  went  about  like  a  sleep-walker.  And 
then  father  will  never,  never  consent  that  his  younger 
daughter  should  marry  before  the  elder.  He  would 
rather  have  us  both  remain  under  his  roof  till  we 
were  grey-headed.  It  is  you,  Zillah,  who  must  make 
the  effort." 

Zillah  stood  looking  dazed  and  vacant  till  Salka  got 
frightened. 

"What  will  you  do?"  she  whispered,  stealing  an 
arm  round  the  other's  neck. 

"What  can  I  do?  I  must  find  out/'  said  Zillah, 
voicelessly.  "If  you  cannot  do  me  this  service  I  ask 
you,  Salka,  you  will  at  least  do  me  another." 

"  Quick,  tell  me." 

"It  is  a  mere  trifle  by  comparison.  Just  a  little 
falsehood  that  will  hurt  nobody  in  the  world.  To 
morrow  afternoon  father  will  be  going  to  Nirshava, 
and — and  our  guest  will  be  thrown  on  our  company. 
I  shall  want  to  leave  the  house  for  a  little  time — 
an  hour  or  so — and  I  want  you  to  bear  me  out  in 
saying  that  I  have  urgent  necessity  for  it." 

66  Why,  where  are  you  going  ?  "  asked  Salka,  appre 
hensively. 

"  Nowhere  in  particular,"  said  Zillah,  glancing  away 
from  her ;  "  I  only  want  to  be  alone ;  quite  alone  to 
take  counsel  with  myself.  The  solitude  will  do  me 
good,  as  it  did  yesterday.  I.  must  come  to  a  decision 
about  this ;  did  you  not  say  so  yourself  ?  " 

<e  Is  that  all  ?  I  wish  you  would  give  me  a  harder 
task  to  test  my  love." 

"  I  gave  you  one." 


58  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  That  was  not  a  task,  it  was  a  forlorn  hope." 
"  Well  then,  wait ;  I  shall  perhaps  take  you  at  your 
word  a  little  later.     In  the  meantime  there  is  to 
morrow.     Don't  forget/' 

Salka  did  not  fall  asleep  for  a  long  time;  she  lay 
staring  wide-eyed  into  the  darkness.  Pictured  upon 
it,  as  on  a  sable  canvas,  stood  Enoch's  pale  face  with 
its  lustrous  eyes.  Why  should  it  come  to  her  here 
in  the  gloom?  It  was  a  punishment  she  had  laid  up 
for  herself:  she  should  not  have  looked  at  it  so  much 
in  the  light,  and  then  it  would  not  trouble  her  now, 
and  keep  her  from  her  slumber.  And  more  strangely 
still,  like  a  refrain  to  a  song  of  her  own  singing,  rang 
in  her  ears  Zillah's  words :  "  Make  him  love  you ! " 
Her  tongue  had  flouted  the  suggestion — but  her 
thoughts?  Aye,  it  was  child's  play  to  speak  with  the 
lips,  but  the  heart  could  not  be  tutored  so  easily  into 
speaking  the  words  it  should;  and  just  now  the  lan 
guage  of  her  own  sounded  contrary  and  wayward.  It 
was  urging  her  to  the  task  her  sister  had  set  her, 
although  she  herself  had  dubbed  it  impossible.  Some 
how  it  did  not  now  seem  so  impossible.  Oh,  no ;  it  was 
not  because  she  wished  it  otherwise.  She  did  not — 
at  least,  she  told  herself  so.  And  then  she  thought  of 
Zillah's  request,  and  what  it  meant  to  herself :  an  hour 
of  undisturbed  companionship  with  him — not  in  vision 
as  now,  but  in  living  deed,  with  sight  and  sound  to 
convince  her  it  was  not  a  phantasy.  The  thought 
took  hold  of  her;  she  tried  to  drive  it  away — it  would 
not  go.  And  then  she  gathered  it  to  her  bosom  and 
strained  it  close,  till  she  felt  it  tingle  into  life,  and 
throb  with  alternate  pulses  of  fear  and  gladness. 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  59 

VIII 

"  You  are  punctual,"  said  the  Commissioner  to  Zillah, 
looking  at  his  watch ;  "  you  told  my  man  at  three ;  it's 
three  to  the  minute." 

"I  was  eager  to  thank  you  for  your  kindness  to 
my  father/'  said  Zillah,  taking  no  trouble  to  conceal 
the  breathlessness  which  evidenced  the  swiftness  of 
her  walk. 

"  Why  not  look  on  that  as  a  matter  of  course  ?  "  he 
asked  a  little  disappointedly;  "I  should  have  pre 
ferred  had  you  come  with — with  a  less  definite  motive." 

"How  do  you  know  that  without  it  I  should  have 
come  at  all?" 

"  Oh,  there  was  no  guarantee  whatever,"  he  said. 
So  long  as  she  was  there,  what  matter  if  she  fenced 
and  quibbled  about  it? 

"  But  it  was  kind  of  you,"  she  iterated;  "  you  saved 
him  considerable  inconvenience,  simply  because " 

"Because?" 

"  Because  you  are  too  broad-minded  to  see  a  criminal 
in  every  man  who  has  not  conformed  to  the  absurd 
ordinances  of  official  tyranny." 

"  This  is  treason — rank  treason,"  he  exclaimed,  with 
a  make-believe  frown;  "is  that  the  way  to  speak  of  the 
institutions  of  our  all-wise  Government?" 

"  Then  you  are  not  broad-minded  ?  " 

"I  have  had  a  duty  given  me,  which  I  must  fulfil 
without  questioning,"  he  said  seriously. 

"  Then  why  did  you  neglect  it  in  the  case  of  my 
father?" 

He  looked  at  her  full;  then  he  said  smilingly:  "Be 
cause  he  happened  to  be  the  father  of  his  daughter." 


60  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  If  so,  why  do  you  refuse  the  daughter's  gratitude  ?  " 

"  I  will  accept  it  if  she  makes  it  an  incident  of  her 
coming,  not  its  main  motive." 

"I  offer  it  to  you;  make  it  what  you  like,"  she  said. 

"That's  much  better/'  he  said  approvingly.  "By 
the  way,  before  we  dismiss  the  subject,  who  was  your 
father's  fellow-traveller  ?  Hardly  your  brother — there 
was  no  resemblance.  His  passport  was  invulnerable, 
which  unfortunate  fact  robbed  me  of  a  chance  of  earn 
ing  some  additional  gratitude  and  credit  for  tolerance." 

Zillah's  lips  closed  very  tightly;  she  was  afraid  lest 
the  impulse  to  echo  his  "before  we  dismiss  the  sub 
ject"  would  be  too  strong  for  her.  Why,  this  par 
ticular  department  of  the  subject  required  a  world  of 
words  all  to  itself.  She  tore  a  little  shoot  from  the 
nearest  fir-bush,  and  commenced  to  strip  it  of  its 
needles. 

"  I  have  no  brothers,"  she  replied  at  last ;  "  I  thought 
you  understood  that.  It's  a  friend  of  my  father." 

"He  comes  from  Berditcheff,"  remarked  the  Com 
missioner,  puzzled  despite  the  clear  drift  of  her  reply. 
"  What  is  he  here  for  ?  On  business  ?  " 

"  Yes,  on  business,"  she  repeated  mechanically,  while 
her  tense  lips  drew  themselves  asunder  into  the  carica 
ture  of  a  smile.  He  was  quick  to  notice  it. 

"  Please  put  on  your  sad  mien,"  he  begged  earnestly ; 
"  that  smile  looks  like  a  murdered  thought." 

"  Why  should  I  look  sad  ?  "  she  asked  jauntily,  reck 
lessly.  "  It's  most  amusing,  I  assure  you.  That  man 

yy 

She  broke  off  abruptly.  The  full  bearing  of  what 
she  was  about  to  do  came  rushing  in  upon  her,  and 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  61 

frightened  her  into  silence.  She  was  going  to  tell 
this  stranger,  this  mushroom  acquaintance,  of  the 
things  that  concerned  her  life  most  closely;  she  was 
going  to  vent  her  ridicule  upon  them,  or,  worse  per 
haps,  exact  his  sympathy.  But,  thank  God,  it  was 
still  not  too  late;  she  could  yet  retrieve  herself. 

The  Commissioner  watched  her  lynx-like. 

"  That  man/7  he  prompted  impatiently. 

She  took  a  step  backward,  and  gazed  round  her 
desperately,  like  a  hunted  fawn. 

"  It  is  nothing  of  consequence,  I  assure  you,"  she 
gasped;  "  and  now  please  excuse  me;  I  must  really  go, 
this  very  minute." 

But  the  Commissioner  knew  better.  "  Will  you  be 
good  enough  to  give  me  the  particulars  you  intended 
to  give  me  concerning  this  man?"  he  said,  his  voice 
harsh  and  strained.  Zillah  remembered  her  father 
had  called  him  stern;  he  was  not  stern — he  was  cruel. 
And  yet  how  his  cruelty  became  him! 

"  I  repeat  to  you,"  she  said  more  collectedly,  "  that 
it  is  nothing — nothing  worth  speaking  about." 

"Well,  then,  I  must  bring  more  pressure  to  bear 
on  you.  What  is  it  with  this  man?  I  ask  in  my 
official  capacity." 

"Indeed,  in  that  it  does  not  concern  you  in  the 
least,"  she  said  eagerly.  "  Will  you  not  take  my  word 
for  it?" 

"  Then  it  concerns  me  only  personally,"  he  observed, 
softening  his  tone.  "That  man,  you  were  going  to 
say,  is  intended  for  your  husband;  the  project  does  not 
please  you — you  were  about  to  speak  of  it  with  bitter 
ness  and  ill-will.  Am  I  right?" 


62  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

She  stared  at  him  dumb  and  petrified. 

"  Believe  me/'  he  went  on  gently,  "  I  have  not  heen 
tracking  the  cunning  and  craftiness  of  crime  all  these 
years  without  being  able  to  unmask  the  subterfuges  of 
innocence  when  I  come  across  them." 

"  You  have  no  right  to  tax  me  with  subterfuges." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"I  don't  insist  on  it  as  an  assertion — I  am  merely 
venturing  a  suggestion.  I  leave  you  the  right  of 
rebutting,  of  denial." 

For  a  moment  her  pride  upreared  itself  rebelliously. 
Why  should  he  think  she  owed  him  confidences  ?  Why 
should  she  stand  before  him  like  a  culprit  confessing 
to  a  transgression?  But  then  again  she  felt  this 
power  he  was  wielding  over  her  was  as  balm  to  her 
soul;  this  dominion  of  his  was  a  mould  into  which  her 
heart  fitted  and  seemed  safe  against  life's  jutting  edges. 
She  lifted  her  eyes  to  his  fearlessly,  and  said : 

"I  do  not  deny  it — I  cannot." 

Quickly  he  came  close  to  her.  "  I  felt  sure  I  had 
spoken  for  you,"  he  said  softly ;  "  and  do  you  know 
what  remains  for  me  now  ?  To  think  for  you — think 
for  you  what  you  have  not  the  courage  to  think  for 
yourself;  to  ask  the  questions  which  you  would  go  on 
asking  without  ever  answering  them.  Shall  I  ?  " 

Her  nod  gave  him  leave. 

"  Why  have  our  paths  crossed,  Madonna  ?  Why 
have  we  touched  each  other's  hands — why  have  we 
looked  into  each  other's  faces?  Why  have  I  counted 
the  hours,  the  minutes,  till  I  should  touch  and  look — 
why  have  you  sent  me  a  message  defining  the  term  and 
limit  of  my  counting?  Look,  we  are  standing  here 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  63 

wrapping  ourselves  in  the  solitude  of  each  other's  com 
pany,  and  yet  feeling  as  though  the  world  were  filled 
with  our  fulness.  What  does  it  mean?  We  that  are 
distinct  and  separate  by  all  the  differences  which 
should  thrust  two  human  beings  asunder,  we  have 
found  each  other  with  but  little  searching.  Tell  me, 
what  does  it  mean?" 

She  stood  listening  with  clasped  hands  and  parted 
lips.  As  he  stopped,  she  turned  to  him  and  breathed: 

"  Go  on  thinking  for  me — go  on  questioning." 

He  bent  close  to  her,  till  their  foreheads  almost 
touched. 

"  No,  I  have  questioned  enough ;  it  is  time  to  make 
answer.  It  means  that  we  are  to  clasp  each  other's 
hands  for  all  our  life,  and  read  each  other's  faces  till 
we  are  blind  in  death.  You  and  I  and  the  future, 
Madonna.  Have  I  not  answered  right  ?  " 

"  Yes,  you  have  thought  for  me,  questioned  for  me, 
answered  for  me,"  said  Zillah,  trembling;  "you  have 
done  it  well — only  too  well.  And,  therefore,  the  end 
must  be " 

"Must  be  what?" 

"  As  though  there  never  had  been  a  beginning." 

He  almost  staggered;  then  he  set  his  teeth  hard. 

"  I  see,"  he  grated  out,  "  this  has  all  been  a  deep- 
laid  plan,  a  device  of  cunning  and  trickery.  You  said 
to  yourself:  'I  shall  weave  this  Gentile's  heart  into 
my  toils,  and  then  I  shall  let  him  writhe;  so  shall  I 
avenge  the  wrongs  his  brothers  have  done  to  my  sis 
ters/  Girl,  from  where  did  you  get  the  courage  for 
that?" 

She  looked  at  him  steadily. 


64  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Courage  ?  "  she  said  slowly.  "  I  have  none.  I  am 
not  as  Jael — she  of  the  milk-bowl  and  the  iron  spike. 
If  I  could  help  my  suffering  race  by  any  service  of 
mine,  I  should  do  it  gladly;  but  never  with  weapons  of 
treachery.  Where  would  such  vengeance  lead  to  ?  " 

"I  have  wronged  you — forgive  me,"  he  replied 
humbly.  "My  disappointment  made  me  unjust;  not 
my  disappointment,  my  misunderstanding  rather.  You 
meant  something  else  than  your  words  said.  Speak — 
I  shall  be  very  patient." 

He  waited  a  minute — two — but  there  was  no  sound 
from  her.     He  took  her  hand  and  stroked  it  tenderly. 
"  Madonna,  Madonna,"  he  whispered,  "  do  you  not 
love  me  ?  " 

Again  there  was  no  answer,  but  instead  she  darted  at 
him  a  look,  half  ineffable  agony,  half  passionate  en 
treaty.  He  had  been  expecting  that  look;  it  served  his 
purpose. 

"  Now  we  can  speak,"  he  said,  his  voice  quivering  with 
suppressed  exultation.  "  Do  you  remember  the  woman 
of  whom  I  told  you — the  one  who  was  sad  because  she 
was  overburdened  with  happiness  ?  Do  you  know  who 
that  woman  was?  Yourself — yourself  as  I  pictured 
you  in  the  years  to  come.  You  shall  walk  in  the  gilded 
palaces  of  which  I,  your  husband — do  you  hear  me  ? — 
your  husband,  shall  open  for  you  the  portals.  Goddess 
mine,  do  you  grasp  all  that  this  means?  Ah,  you  do 
not  know  the  splendor,  the  grandeur  of  it — the  in 
toxicating  gladness,  the  exquisite  heart-throbs  of  secure 
affluence,  the  surpassing  triumph  of  bended  knee  and 
absolute  homage.  But  you  shall  taste  it  all,  I  promise 
you.  And  when  you  are  tired  of  it,  I  shall  make  my 
love  your  undying  delight.  Come  with  me." 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  65 

"Whither?"  she  asked  dreamily. 

"  Whither  ?  Away  from  here.  Is  this  the  place 
where  I  could  ever  redeem  my  promise  ?  " 

"  Then  I  must  leave  my  parents,"  she  said,  awaking 
from  her  trance. 

"  Do  you  expect  to  gain  everything  and  make  no 
sacrifice  whatever  ?  " 

"I  would  make  any  sacrifice,  but  not  this,"  broke 
from  her  like  a  wail.  "  Oh,  why  did  you  not  let  me  go 
before — why  have  you  made  me  listen  to  all  this  ?  Be 
merciful — do  not  tempt  me  too  hard.  I  cannot  leave 
my  parents,  and  yet — and  yet,  oh,  I  want  to  go  with 
you." 

The  Commissioner  clasped  both  her  hands  tightly. 

"  Yes,  you  shall  come  with  me.  And  soon.  Hear 
me.  You  know  I  am  here  only  on  intermediate  service. 
Within  the  next  few  days  I  expect  orders  to  go  far 
inland  to  take  over  control  of  a  large  revenue  depart 
ment  which  I  have  been  promised.  By  then  you  must 
be  ready  to  follow  me.  You  must  be  prepared  any  mo 
ment.  In  the  morning  I  shall  send  you  a  message  by 
my  man,  and  that  same  evening  we  must  be  gone. 
That  is  settled." 

"Not  quite — not  quite,"  she  whispered  fearfully; 
"  please  do  not  yet  take  everything  for  granted.  I 
know  if  I  were  now  to  say  yes,  I  should  be  bound  to  it, 
not  only  by  my  heart,  but  by  my  conscience  also " 

"  Then  say  yes,"  he  interrupted  eagerly. 

"  But  I  must  give  myself  breathing-space,  more  for 
your  sake  than  for  mine,"  she  said,  ignoring  his  words ; 
"  I  must  fortify  myself  to  it  by  clear  thought  and 
reasoning  that  shall  sweep  away  all  hindrances  now, 


66  STBANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

and  all  reproach,  should  there  be  any,  hereafter.  For 
1  shall  then  be  able  to  say  to  myself  that  it  was  not 
your  importunity,  but  my  own  free  will,  which  made 
my  life  such  as  it  shall  be.  Believe  me,  it  will  be 
better  for  both  of  us.  And  one  other  thing :  till  then 
avoid  me.  Let  me  come  to  my  decision  unprompted, 
spontaneously.  The  sight  of  you  would  probably  be 
to  me  more  bewilderment  than  argument.  Will  you 
grant  me  this  ?  " 

He  cast  at  her  a  quick  look  of  suspicion;  and  then, 
as  her  clear  eyes  met  his,  he  felt  ashamed  of  it. 

He  nodded.  "  I  will,  but  in  return  I  shall  ask  you 
for  something,  too.  You  have  not  yet  told  me  what 
your  heart  says  to  mine." 

"  Has  my  silence  not  told  it  more  clearly  than  any 
words  of  mine  could  ?  "  she  queried. 

"  I  want  your  words  as  well.  Say  after  me :  '  Otto, 
I  love  you/ >: 

She  obeyed — even  when  he  said  he  wanted  to  hear 
it  twice. 

"  Do  you  know  what  my  purpose  was  ?  "  he  went  on. 
"  I  wished  you  to  say  it,  because  I  know  the  utterance 
will  ring  in  your  ears,  and  admonish  you  when  your 
surroundings  will  call  to  you  too  loudly.  You  will 
remember  it,  and  you  will  not  falter.  Or  perhaps  you 
count  that  undue  influence  ?  "  he  added,  with  the  faint 
est  touch  of  jesting. 

She  smiled  wearily.  "  No,  because  you  have  put  me 
on  my  guard  against  it." 

"  Yes,  that  is  right,"  he  exclaimed  quickly,  his  face 
suffused  with  joy;  "guard  yourself  against  it.  This 
will  probably  be  the  last  time  you  will  partake  of  the 
experience/' 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  67 

She  looked  puzzled. 

"  Because/'  he  explained,  "  after  that  it  will  be  my 
office  to  safeguard  you,  to  watch  over  you,  to  be  your 
armor  and  shield.  And  therefore  I  ask  you  now,  for 
this  once  more,  to  be  your  own  protection.  Drink 
the  sensation  to  the  dregs ;  you  will  then  be  better  able 
to  appreciate  the  contrast." 

"  My  armor  and  shield,"  she  echoed  softly,  measur 
ing  him  from  head  to  foot ;  "  that  must  feel  good— - 
I  shall  think  of-  it.  Good-bye."  She  held  out  her 
hand. 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  he  asked,  taking  it  in  his. 

«  All  till » 

"  Till  we  meet  again  with  no  parting  before  us,"  he 
said  fervently.  "  I  ought  to  be  satisfied  with  that." 

He  had  to  be,  for  the  next  moment  she  had  left  him 
and  was  making  her  way  swiftly  and  sure-footed 
through  the  tangled  undergrowth;  but  he  had  caught 
the  look  with  which  she  had  turned  from  him — it  was 
better  than  a  caress. 

Outside  in  the  clearing  Zillah  moderated  her  pace. 
At  this  rate  she  would  get  home  too  soon,  before  her 
blood  could  settle  down  into  more  temperate  motion, 
before  she  had  gained  control  of  her  voice  and  tongue, 
and  could  force  them  to  the  requisite  restraint  of 
everyday  speech.  Otherwise  her  feelings  would  be 
come  as  a  flood  on  which  her  secret  would  be  borne 
to  the  understanding  of  any  one  who  chose  to  listen. 

Not  yet;  her  secret  would  see  light  soon  enough. 

The  autumn  day  was  crimsoning  out  into  sunset. 
The  flaming  orb  overhead  had  gathered  back  into  itself 
the  myriad  shafts  it  had  been  brandishing  all  day,  and 


68  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

seemed  melting  away  with  the  fury  of  its  fire.  The 
clouds  flared  up  like  a  furnace,  as  though  to  infuse  the 
shrinking  sky  with  a  little  warmth  against  the  numbing 
touch  of  the  night. 

Zillah  looked  up.  Glory  and  splendor— but  before 
long,  the  darkness.  These  things  were  riddles,  even 
as  her  own  life. 

IX 

SOFTLY  Zillah  entered  the  shop.  Yeiteles  was  weigh 
ing  out  bags  of  sugar  near  the  window.  It  was  a 
task  that  could  well  be  entrusted  to  him.  Rhadaman- 
thus,  Chief  Justice  of  the  heathen  Sheol,  was  surely 
not  more  critical  in  his  verdicts  than  Yeiteles  in  his 
judgment  of  the  scales.  He  never  gave  over-weight; 
he  kept  that  for  his  perquisite. 

From  the  kitchen  came  voices.  Ah,  of  course,  it 
was  Salka  and  the  wooer.  He  had  slipped  Zillah's 
memory.  Well,  one  could  not  remember  everything, 
and  she  had  so  much  to  think  of.  A  few  steps  brought 
her  into  their  presence.  At  her  entrance  Salka  started 
up,  and  fixed  her  with  an  eager,  anxious  glance.  The 
dry  fir-logs  on  the  kitchen-hearth  flared  up  like  torches, 
and  made  Zillah's  features  stand  out  as  in  daylight. 
Yes,  thought  Salka,  she  had  come  to  her  decision;  her 
face  showed  serene  with  certainty;  the  furrows  of  self- 
questioning  had  disappeared,  and  round  her  lips  played 
a  smile,  like  a  halo  of  victory. 

A  quiver  of  rebellious  pain  trembled  through  Salka's 
heart.  Why  had  she  thrown  away  her  chance  when 
it  had  been  thrust  upon  her  unsought?  The  intima 
tion  which  had  crept  into  her  brain  the  night  before, 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  69 

and  which  that  afternoon  had  ripened  into  conviction 
— why  had  it  come  so  late — too  late  ?  Had  she  known 
then  what  she  knew  now,  she  would  have  set  herself  to 
win  him,  whatever  might  betide  thereafter.  She  had 
trifled  with  her  good  fortune,  and  this  was  how  it 
worked  its  revenge.  But  she  must  not  show  anything; 
she  must  be  brave,  brave  and  maidenly — the  one  thing 
meant  the  other. 

"  I  am  glad  she  is  better,"  she  said  calmly,  in  reply 
to  Zillah' s  remark  anent  the  condition  of  an  imaginary 
friend   suffering  from  a  fictitious  illness;  "  very   glad, 
indeed.     Guess  what  we  shall  have  for  supper." 
Zillah  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
"  Sour  cabbage  stew  and  blue  potatoes." 
Zillah  opened  her  eyes. 

"It's  Enoch's  favorite  dish — he  just  told  me  so," 
explained  Salka. 

"  Is  it  ?  "  queried  Zillah,  in  neutral  tone. 
But  Salka  accentuated  the  question  her  own  way; 
to   her  it   sounded   instinct  with   solicitous  interest. 
"  Ah,  she  has  a  right  to  know  his  favorite  dishes,"  she 
thought  bitterly. 

"  My  dead  mother  preferred  it  to  all  others,"  said 
Enoch,  quietly.  "  She  was  a  good  woman,  and  I  think 
one  can  honor  the  memory  of  a  good  woman  even  by 
the  eating  of  cabbage  stew." 

Zillah  glanced  at  him  strangely;  his  words  rang  so 
full  and  true.  Then  her  bosom  heaved  with  a  sudden, 
nameless  anger;  why  had  chance  hurled  this  taunt  in 
her  teeth  ?  It  was  a  grand  thing  to  boast  of  the  love 
one  bore  to  one's  mother.  Not  everybody  could  do 
that;  she  least  of  all. 


70  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  She  must  have  been  good,"  said  Salka,  unable  to 
resist  her  impulse ;  "  she  has  left  testimony  of  it 
in "  she  stopped  short,  flushing. 

"  In  her  son  ?  "  supplemented  Enoch,  with  a  depre 
catory  smile.  "  Oh,  I  am  no  paragon — I  am  full  of 
faults  and  blemishes ;  " — Zillah  recognized  the  words — 
"  for  instance,  I  impose  myself  on  people  to  whom  my 
presence  is  irksome.  That  is  only  one  of  the  great 
precepts  of  humanity  as  laid  down  by  our  Eabbins 
that  I  am  violating.  Again " 

Salka  started  up  suddenly.  "  Mother  is  tapping  for 
me,"  she  said,  hurrying  out.  It  was  strange  that 
neither  of  the  others  had  caught  the  signal. 

There  was  silence  between  the  two;  Enoch  had  for 
gotten  the  second  point  of  self-accusation,  and  stared 
mutely  into  the  fire.  Zillah  took  the  initiative;  her 
lips  were  trembling,  but  her  voice  was  firm. 

"  I  have  deserved  your  reproach,"  she  began,  "  I 
have  deserved  it — can  I  say  more  ?  And  now  that  you 
have  heard  me  owning  to  my  wrong,  will  you  do  justice 
to  me?" 

He  signed  her  to  continue. 

"  Then  listen.  Why  are  you  here  ?  I  have  not  sent 
for  you.  You  cannot  claim  that  I  have  broken  faith 
with  you;  there  has  been  no  promise  of  mine  I  have 
omitted  to  make  good.  Is  there  any  blame  you  can 
attach  to  me  ?  " 

"No,  none,"  he  said  wearily,  after  a  little  pause. 
"  You  cannot  help  being  what  you  are ;  I  cannot  help 
feeling  what  I  feel.  But  why  trouble  over  it  ?  There 
is  a  remedy:  I  shall  go." 

An  idea  flashed  on  Zillah.    No,  he  must  not  go  away; 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  71 

he  must  stay  on  to  be  the  prop  whereon  her  parents 
might  lean  their  shattered,  battered  lives  when  the 
blow  came — how  it  pleased  her  to  torture  herself  with 
the  thought.  He  was  so  good  and  kind — he  had 
studied  the  "  great  precepts  of  humanity  " ;  he  would 
comfort  them,  and  become  their  son  for  charity's  sake. 

"Go?"  she  echoed.  "Who  tells  you  to  do  that? 
Why  not  rather  say  you  have  not  yet  given  yourself 
a  fair  trial.  Why,  once  you  are  gone " 

He  started  up  and  looked  at  her  with  straining  eyes. 

"  Yes  ?  "  he  prompted. 

"  Your  hopes  go  with  you,  I  suppose." 

"  Hope  ?     Then  there  is  really  hope  ?  " 

"You  must  not  press  me  for  an  answer;  who 
knows  ?  " 

The  equivocation  came  easily  from  her  lips.  What 
mattered  it — one  lie  more  or  less  ?  And  this  was  per 
haps  the  only  one  that  might  be  registered  to  her 
credit  in  heaven.  The  fir-logs  crackled  and  sputtered 
as  the  tongues  of  flame  licked  each  new  vein  of  resin; 
both  pretended  to  be  listening  to  them.  Thus  they 
could  more  plausibly  give  ear  to  the  rush  and  whirr  of 
their  own  thoughts. 

"So  busy,  children,  that  you  don't  even  hear  my 
elf -like  footsteps?"  Old  Anshel's  voice  broke  in  on 
them  cheerily  from  the  door;  "I  suppose  now  that  I 
have  sounded  the  alarm  I  may  come  in  ?  " 

He  answered  his  own  invitation  by  striding  into  the 
kitchen;  his  quick  eye  observed  in  both  something 
that  looked  very  much  like  embarrassment.  The  obser 
vation  pleased  him  greatly;  this  meant  making  head 
way. 


72  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  I  was  half-way  on  to  Tuschk  when  I  met  the  very 
man  I  wanted;  he  was  coming  to  me  on  the  same 
errand.  So  we  finished  our  business  in  the  open  road, 
and  here  I  am  again  in  good  time  and  in  still  better 
appetite.  Where's  Salka  ?  " 

"  With  mother,"  said  Zillah;  "  but  don't  be  afraid— 
the  supper's  cooking.  Enoch  and  I  are  cooking  it, 
aren't  we,  Enoch  ?  " 

"  The  bill  of  fare  was  certainly  my  suggestion," 
answered  the  latter,  with  a  flush  of  pleasure  at  her 
appeal;  "but  that  is  all  I  can  take  credit  for." 

"  Thank  God,"  muttered  Anshel,  "  that  saucepan  has 
done  the  business.  It  preached  to  her  the  pleasures 
of  housewifery.  A  marriage  cooked  in  a  saucepan; 
I  should  laugh,  if  only  I  were  sure  she  has  learned  the 
sermon  well  by  heart." 

It  was  the  pleasantest  evening  spent  since  Enoch's 
arrival.  He  caught  the  inspiration  of  it,  and  his 
parables,  sophisms,  and  dialectic  fireworks  came  out 
thick  as  hail.  Many  a  time  he  drove  Anshel  into  a 
nasty  corner,  but  Anshel  only  chuckled  with  delight, 
like  a  three-year-old  toddler  who  has  found  a  grown 
up  man  to  play  with  him.  Salka  alone  went  about 
subdued  and  out  of  sorts,  with  a  touch  of  red  about 
her  eyes,  which  might  have  been  attributable  to  an 
overhasty  drying  of  tears. 

Zillah  had  been  sitting  the  whole  evening  on  the 
edge  of  her  mother's  arm-chair,  stroking  the  wan 
cheeks  and  fondling  the  nerveless  hands.  She  kept 
her  place  there  even  after  the  two  men  had  retired 
upstairs  and  Salka  retreated  to  the  kitchen. 

"Just  five  minutes  all  to  ourselves,  little  mother," 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  73 

she  said;  "it  is  such  a  long  time  since  we  have  spoken 
to  one  another  without  a  listener." 

"  Yes,  quite  two  days;  I  am  forgetting  the  sound  of 
your  voice — I  mean  the  voice  you  keep  all  for  myself." 

"  Should  you  not  begin  to  accustom  yourself  to  its 
absence  ?  "  asked  Zillah,  pensively. 

"  Then  you  have  settled  with  Enoch,  and  all  is  well — 
it  is  true  ?  " 

"  Tell  me,  mother,"  said  Zillah,  ignoring  the  ques 
tion  and  avoiding  the  joy-lit  look  that  accompanied  it; 
"tell  me:  was  it  for  the  honor  of  our  house  that  this 
match  was  arranged?" 

"What  a  strange  thing  to  ask,  child,"  was  the 
answer.  "For  our  honor?  Of  course  not — for  your 
happiness." 

"  Then  so  long  as  I  had  that,  so  long  as  you  knew 
all  my  heart's  desires  were  being  gratified,  would  that 
satisfy  you  ?  " 

"  Quite ;  what  more  are  we  to  expect  ?  Zillah,  what 
do  you  mean  ?  Why  do  you  frighten  me  with  riddles  ?  " 

"Forgive  me — I  was  clumsy,"  stammered  Zillah; 
"  I  only  meant  to  assure  you  that  when  I  shall  be  away 
you  shall  hear  of  my  happiness ;  I  shall  write  you  very, 
very  often " 

"  Yes,  but  what  need  is  there  of  the  assurance  ?  Do 
not  these  things  go  without  saying  ?  I  make  no  condi 
tions  with  you,  Zillah;  I  do  not  ask  you  to  promise 
anything.  I  only  want  you  to  be  a  true  daughter  of 
mine.  The  rest  I  leave  to  you.  Come,  I  am  very 
tired;  put  me  to  bed." 

Silently  Zillah  did  as  she  was  bidden;  she  could  not 
have  uttered  a  word,  although  it  had  been  to  beg  her 


74  STRANGLES  AT  THE  GATE 

life.  A  sense  of  foiled,  abortive  effort  gnawed  in  her 
mind.  She  had  attempted  to  feel  her  way.  She  had 
achieved  nothing.  Ah,  yes,  something.  She  had  in 
stilled  into  her  mother  the  vague  apprehension  which 
afterwards,  when  she  knew  that  her  fears  had  not  been 
visionary,  would  dull  the  shock  by  its  saving  fore 
knowledge.  Zillah  wondered  that  she  could  calculate 
these  things  with  such  precision,  could  put  upon  them 
their  proper  value;  and  from  that  she  learnt  that  her 
heart  was  all  out  of  gear — and  perhaps  not  only  her 
heart,  but  her  reason  as  well.  If  not,  the  two  would 
not  have  made  common  cause  to  blunt  the  sting  of 
her  offence. 

Slowly  she  made  her  way  downstairs  into  the  kitchen. 
Salka,  too,  was  probably  fatigued  with  the  long  day's 
toil. 

"I  might  as  well  lend  her  a  hand  while  I  can," 
thought  Zillah;  "  next  week,  perhaps,  she  will  not  mind 
the  labor.  It  will  help  her  to  forget  she  had  a  sister/' 

Salka  hardly  looked  up  at  her  entrance. 

"So  you  have  made  up  your  mind,"  she  began,  after 
a  moment's  silence. 

"  Yes,  I  have,"  replied  Zillah,  reckless  and  defiant ; 
"  I  am  going  away  from  here." 

"  I  know  Enoch's  father  wants  you  to  live  near  him," 
said  Salka. 

" Enoch's  father?  I  am  not  going  with  Enoch — 
I  am  going  with  the  Commissioner,"  she  continued 
calmly,  noting  Salka's  look  of  stupefaction,  e<  the  man 
you  saw  in  the  shop  the  other  day.  He  asked  me  to 
marry  him  this  afternoon.  I  told  him  I  would  con 
sider,  but  he  knows  very  well  what  my  answer  will  be. 


DAUGHTEKS  OF  SHEM  75 

And  now  you  can  go  and  kill  mother  with  the  news  if 
you  like." 

The  heavy  silver  ladle  in  Salka's  hand  clattered  to 
the  ground,  and  lay  there  disregarded.  Then  a  short 
inarticulate  cry  wrung  itself  from  her  lips.  Zillah  did 
not  heed  it ;  she  sat  down  and  carefully,  dispassionately 
smoothed  back  a  tress  of  hair  which  had  struggled 
loose. 

Salka  listened:  the  words  she  had  just  heard  were 
vibrating  with  a  strange  after-note.  At  first  it  was 
but  an  indistinct  suggestion,  then  it  shaped  itself  into 
recognizable  sounds,  until  it  rang  out  clear  and  reso 
nant: 

"  Enoch  is  free — Enoch  is  free !  " 

So  he  was  not  lost  to  her  after  all?  Fate  had 
been  kind  to  her — had  not  taken  offence  at  her  former 
rebuff.  To  waste  this  second  chance  would  be  delib 
erately  to  push  aside  the  extended  hand  of  God. 

"  Zillah,  do  as  your  heart  bids  you,"  she  said  slowly. 

With  a  bound  Zillah  was  at  her  side,  peering  deeply 
into  her  eyes. 

te  Salka,  are  you  really  telling  me  to  do  that  ?  "  she 
panted.  "Are  you  really  in  earnest?  No,  I  can  see 
you  are  not  speaking  to  me  in  mockery.  Ah,  the  true 
little  sister  you  are!  Do  you  know,  Salka,"  she  went 
on,  almost  sobbing,  "I  had  expected  you  would  over 
whelm  me  with  your  reproaches;  I  thought  you  would 
burst  out  crying,  and  make  me  falter  with  your 
appeals  and  passionate  entreaties.  And  perhaps  you 
would  not  have  needed  to  go  so  far;  just  one  little 
word  of  remonstrance  might  have  turned  me  from  my 
purpose — and  I  love  him  so.  But  you  say  I  am  doing 


76  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

right;  that  is  the  heaven-sign  for  which  I  have  been 
waiting.  Oh,  Salka,  Salka!" 

Salka  wrenched  herself  loose  from  her  embraces;  she 
did  not  deserve  them. 

"  What  is  the  use  of  your  staying  here  eating  your 
heart  out  ?  "  she  said  quickly.  "  Would  it  be  more 
pleasant  for  me  to  see  you  do  that  than  to  know  that 
elsewhere  you  are  tasting  love  and  life  to  the  full? 
I  should  scold  myself  for  a  selfish,  whining  weakling,  if, 
because  of  the  pain  of  parting  with  you,  I  should  dis 
suade  you  from  following  your  truest  impulse." 

She  paused  for  a  moment;  then  her  eyes  brightened 
and  her  voice  rose. 

"  But  that  is  not  the  only  reason  why  I  ask  you  to 
go,  Zillah.  A  great  mission  awaits  you.  You  will 
accomplish  much  for  which  you  would  never  find  the 
scope  here.  Out  there,  in  the  midst  of  our  enemies, 
to  whom  we  are  but  a  name  and  an  execration,  among 
them  in  secret  and  in  ambush,  as  it  were,  you  will  be 
able  to  champion  our  struggling  race.  It  is  not  our 
professed  advocates,  who  make  a  great  noise  and  shout 
themselves  hoarse  in  the  world's  market-places,  that 
shall  work  our  redemption.  No;  it  is  the  quiet  ex 
ample,  the  living  lesson,  the  subtle,  voiceless  per 
suasion  by  act  and  deed,  however  small,  which  shall 
teach  our  adversaries  how  they  misjudge  us.  We  want 
many,  many  such  teachers  scattered  abroad.  Think  of 
it,  Zillah,  you  will  be  one  of  them,  and  not  the  idlest, 
I  know.  Did  my  fate  call  me,  ill-equipped  though  I 
am,  I  should  go  likewise." 

A  great  sigh  rose  from  Salka's  inmost  heart  as  she 
finished.  That  sigh  was  a  prayer  of  gratitude.  God 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  77 

was  merciful,  and  had  given  her  something  wherewith 
to  salve  her  conscience.  It  was  no  longer  an  igno 
minious  falsehood,  a  despicable  device,  which  made  her 
send  her  sister  adrift;  but  a  great  and  glorious  purpose 
which  had  ennobled  selfishness  into  self-sacrifice. 

Zillah  seemed  to  think  so,  too.  The  color  in  her 
face  ebbed  and  flowed,  her  fingers  twined  and  untwined 
as  she  listened. 

"Can  I  ever  thank  you,  Salka?"  she  said  finally; 
"  Whence  did  you  take  that  inspiration  ?  I  might  have 
gone  on  thinking  and  thinking — it  would  never  have 
come  to  me.  Salka,  as  you  love  me,  let  me  not  hear 
another  word  from  you  to-night.  I  want  to  soak  my 
brain  in  what  you  have  said — to  teach  our  enemies  to 
love  us!  What  a  task  you  have  set  me.  One  thing 
you  can  be  sure  of — I  shall  be  loyal  to  it.  I  shall  sing 
the  songs  of  the  Lord  in  a  strange  land  as  no  one  has 
sung  them  yet.  Believe  me,  my  life  shall  not  be  lived 
in  vain.  Do  I  not  know  it  ?  I  must  wipe  many  a  tear 
from  the  face  of  our  nation's  misery,  I  must  apply 
many  a  bandage  to  its  sufferings,  before  I  can  hope  to 
earn  atonement  for  the  wounds  I  am  inflicting  on 
those  that  gave  me  life." 

She  stopped  and  listened;  down  the  street  a  horse 
man  was  passing  at  a  furious  gallop. 

"  That  is  he,"  she  muttered,  her  finger  to  her  lip ; 
"  hark,  how  his  restlessness  is  scourging  him.  Come, 
Salka,  if  mother  should  wake,  she  will  wonder  what  we 
are  doing.  Are  you  not  lucky,  Salka?  Only  a  few 
days  more,  and  you  will  have  no  need  to  share  your 
mother  with  any  one  else." 

When  Yeiteles  entered  the  kitchen  next  morning, 


78  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

he  had  quite  a  shock.  On  the  floor,  rubbing  shoulders 
with  the  plebeian  fire-tongs,  lay  the  silver  ladle,  dis 
consolate  and  neglected. 

X 

IT  WAS  the  fourth  morning  following.  Anshel  had 
started  out  quite  early  the  previous  day  to  collect 
accounts  in  the  neighboring  villages,  and  was  not 
expected  back  till  late  that  evening.  Zillah  was  in 
the  sick-room;  she  had  hardly  stirred  from  it  during 
the  last  three  days.  Her  mother  wondered  at  it,  but 
she  took  it  as  she  took  every  other  blessing,  without 
inquiry.  She  knew  it  was  dangerous  to  question  one's 
good  fortune. 

Enoch  had  been  hovering  about  the  house  aimlessly. 
He  thought  he  had  something  to  wait  for — had  not 
Zillah  told  him  so?  He  had  repeated  her  words  to 
himself  time  and  again;  at  first  they  sounded  sweet, 
comforting,  inspiring.  And  then — was  it  from  the 
endless  iteration? — they  began  to  lose  the  edge  of 
their  import.  And  now,  as  he  recalled  them,  sitting 
in  his  attic  with  the  tremendous  tome  of  Talmudic 
lore  in  front  of  him,  they  seemed  hollow  and  lifeless, 
for  they  roused  in  him  no  responsive  thrill.  From 
that  he  knew  he  had  lost  faith  in  them.  Anchorite 
though  he  was,  he  had  learnt  so  much  of  the  world's 
ways,  that  if  a  woman  would  show  favor  to  a  man, 
her  features,  however  tense  with  pain,  would  soften  at 
his  approach,  her  vacant  eyes  would  become  suffused 
with  light  and  life.  Zillah's  did  nothing  of  the  kind. 
Ah,  it  was  a  difficult  question — much  more  difficult 
than  any  of  those  propounded  in  Treatise  Baba  Kama. 
But  he  would  have  it  answered  this  day. 


DAUGHTEES  OP  SHEM  79 

Salka  was  in  the  shop.  Somehow  she  was  glad  of 
this  new  partition  of  labor  between  her  and  her 
sister;  it  kept  her  for  the  most  part  out  of  her  mother's 
presence,  and  what  had  formerly  appeared  to  her  a 
deprivation,  now  came  to  her  as  a  relief.  She  felt 
guilty;  she  had  not  yet  taken  herself  to  account  as  to 
the  extent  and  origin  of  the  feeling,  because  so  far  it 
was  sufficiently  strong  to  override  all  attempts  at 
self-analysis.  It  resulted  in  a  state  of  helpless  be 
wilderment,  which  as  often  as  not  overshadowed  her 
perception  of  outward  things. 

That  was  apparently  the  case  with  her  at  present, 
or  else  she  would  long  ago  have  noticed  the  lanky 
gendarme  who  was  promenading  up  and  down  the 
street,  and  casting  a  vexed  look  into  the  shop  each 
time  he  passed  it.  And  so  she  started  up  half -fright 
ened  as  suddenly  he  clanked  in. 

"I  want  two  copecks  worth  of  pipe-clay,"  he  said, 
looking  round  inquisitively. 

"  Pipe-clay  ?     We  don't  sell  any  here." 

"Yes,  you  do — I  bought  some  the  other  day;  the 
tall  young  lady  with  the  big,  shining  eyes  served  me." 

A  light  dawned  on  Salka.  Swiftly  she  walked  to 
the  backdoor. 

"  Zillah,  I  want  you,"  she  called  up. 

Her  voice  trembled,  but  she  did  not  know  it. 

A  minute  passed,  and  then  Zillah  appeared;  her 
first  glance  caught  the  gendarme. 

"  A  message  ?  "  she  asked. 

The  man  nodded,  and  looked  towards  Salka,  who  had 
stepped  to  the  other  counter. 

"  She  does  not  matter,"  Zillah  impatiently  replied  to 
the  look. 


80  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"I  was  ordered  to  give  it  to  nobody  but  you,"  he 
explained,  handing  her  the  note,  "  so  as  to  make  sure 
it  reached  you." 

Zillah  read  it  through,  read  it  again  and  again,  as 
the  man  augured  from  the  time  she  took  in  the  perusal; 
it  was  not  such  a  very  long  letter. 

"  I  shall  send  the  answer  later,  through  some  one 
else/5  she  informed  him  at  last. 

The  man  hesitated.  Zillah  repeated  her  words. 
Then  he  went,  his  head  high  in  the  air.  He  was 
rather  proud  of  the  pipe-clay  idea. 

"  Here,"  said  Zillah,  holding  the  letter  out  to  Salka. 
The  latter  took  it,  although  her  trembling  fingers 
almost  refused  her  service. 

"My  despatches  have  arrived,"  she  read;  "I  am  to 
be  given  the  post  on  condition  that  I  report  myself 
at  Samarkand  by  noon  on  the  fifth  day  from  this. 
We  must  go  by  the  seven  o'clock  train  to-night:  or, 
at  the  latest,  we  can  leave  at  nine  in  the  locomotive 
car,  which  will  be  in  time  to  meet  the  South  Line  train 
at  the  junction.  If  you  have  not  sent  your  answer 
by  seven,  I  know  you  will  bring  it  yourself  at  nine." 

"  To-night,  then,"  said  Salka,  her  gaze  riveted  on 
the  missive.  Zillah  did  not  answer,  so  that  Salka 
fancied  she  had  only  thought,  not  spoken  the  words. 

"  To-night,  then,"  she  repeated  more  loudly. 

"God!  do  I  not  know  it  without  your  dinning  it 
into  my  ears  ?  "  cried  Zillah. 

"I  thought  you  would  be  glad,"  ventured  Salka, 
timidly. 

"  Of  course  I  am  glad — so  glad  that  I  am  jealous  of 
showing  it.  Only  I  thought  it  would  not  be  so  soon." 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  81 

"  When  did  you  expect  it  ?  " 

"In  a  month,  in  a  year — and  there  would  be  a 
chance  of  my  being  dead  before  then.  It  is  true, 
though,  he  gave  me  warning  that  he  would  want  me 
speedily,  now  that  I  come  to  think  of  it,"  she  went 
on,  almost  rambling,  "  but  I  did  not  believe  he  meant 
it;  I  did  not  believe  this  meant  anything  save  a  blind, 
undiscerning  happiness  that  looked  neither  behind  nor 
in  front.  And  now  that  I  must  use  my  sight,  it  hurts. 
Yes,  Salka,  it  hurts." 

Entreatingly  she  turned  her  blanched  face  to  her 
sister;  in  the  garish  sunshine  it  looked  piteously 
wan  and  drawn. 

Salka  crushed  the  Commissioner's  letter  with  fever 
ish  fingers. 

"  You  are  not  going,"  she  said,  coming  closer  to 
Zillah;  "  you  don't  want  to  go.  Your  courage  is  failing 
you." 

A  glad  smile  relaxed  Zillah's  features.  She  clutched 
Salka's  hand. 

"  Ah,  you  are  my  angel,  as  ever,"  she  broke  out ; 
"  you  need  but  open  your  lips,  and  help  comes.  Indeed, 
it  is  merely  my  courage  has  deserted  me — not  my 
desire.  Only  I  did  not  know  it  till  you  told  me. 
Should  I  not  be  frightened  to  give  myself  into  a 
stranger's  keeping,  one  of  whom  I  know  nothing  save 
that  I  love  him?  And  perhaps  love  may  not  be  a 
safe  touchstone — perhaps  there  is  some  alloy  where 
my  heart  would  fain  only  discover  refined  gold.  All 
these  things  are  a  hazard,  a  life  and  death  hazard,  and 
is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  a  weak  woman  like  me 
shrinks  from  staking  her  all  upon  it  ?  But  now  there 


82  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

remains  only  one  course:  to  cast  misgivings  to  the 
wind,  to  be  brave  and  fearless,  to  trust  that  what  God 
makes  us  do  is  surely  for  the  best.  Salka,  I  shall  go." 

Pensively  the  younger  sister  gazed  out  at  the  apple- 
tree  that  stood  sentry  outside  the  shop,  and  now 
seemed  to  be  shaking  its  yellowish  leaves  in  disap 
proval. 

"  Is  it  worth  it  ?  "  she  asked  at  last. 

"  You  mean  is  it  worth  father  and  mother  and  you? 
I  don't  know;  did  I  not  say  it  was  a  hazard?  I  only 
know  that  if  I  lose,  I  shall  not  be  sorry — because  I 
should  not  dare  to  be." 

A  long  silence  followed.     Salka  spoke  first. 

"  Father  will  not  be  home  before  eight." 

"  Yes,  I  have  been  thinking  of  that,"  said  Zillah. 

"  You  will  want  to  see  him ;  and  so  you  will  not  be 

able  to  go  before  nine.     In  the  meantime  the  Com 

he  will  be  waiting  for  an  answer.  Let  me  take  it  to 
him." 

Salka's  dispassionate  voice  contrasted  curiously  with 
Zillah's  eager  accents  as  she  replied: 

"  Oh,  Salka,  I  had  intended  to  ask  you,  but  I  was 
afraid.  I  want  to  be  with  mother  all  I  can;  every 
hour  I  see  her  between  now  and  to-night  might  have 
to  serve  me  with  its  memory  for  a  year." 

"  Why  should  you  be  afraid  to  ask  me  ?  Don't  you 
remember,  I  still  owe  you  a  service  ?  "  answered  Salka, 
in  most  business-like  tone.  One  would  think  she  had 
not  noticed  the  pain  that  quivered  through  her  sister's 
last  words. 

"  I  shall  go  over  to  the  railway  station  shortly  before 
seven,"  she  continued;  "  I  shall  be  sure  to  find  him  on 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  83 

the  platform.  Would  that  not  be  best?  You  see  he 
does  not  expect  a  message  much  before  then." 

And  smoothing  the  crumpled  paper,  she  held  it 
before  Zillah.  The  latter  nodded;  she  had  no  need  to 
look — she  knew  it  well  by  heart. 

"  You  are  doing  your  best  to  make  it  hard  for  me, 
little  sister,"  was  all  she  said.  And  Salka  knew  what 
she  meant. 

Without  another  word  Zillah  went  back  to  her 
mother.  She  must  not  waste  the  precious  time;  she 
must  take  a  deep  impress  of  the  dear,  dear  features — 
deep  enough  to  last  her  all  her  lifetime.  Oh,  yes, 
that  was  what  it  would  come  to;  they  would  never 
forgive  her — she  would  be  dead  to  them.  Her  father 
would  sit  in  the  mourner's  chair,  mourning  her  for  the 
prescribed  seven  days,  and  ever  after  observe  the  date 
of  her  flight  as  the  anniversary  of  her  passing.  With 
a  sob  she  pressed  one  hand  to  her  eyes,  but  the  terrible 
picture  would  not  vanish. 

So  she  groped  her  way  up  the  stairs.  At  the  top 
she  came  face  to  face  with  Enoch.  He  looked  at  her 
with  the  curious,  hungry  gaze  with  which  she  was  well 
acquainted,  but  before  he  had  time  to  utter  a  word, 
she  had  opened  the  door  and  disappeared. 

With  a  sinking  heart  he  crept  down  into  the  shop. 
But  Salka  had  heard  him  coming,  and  was  stooping 
over  an  account-book,  adding  up  long  rows  of  figures. 
Calmly  she  went  on  with  them  as  he  entered.  Enoch 
watched  her  a  little,  waiting  vainly  to  see  her  turn 
her  face  upon  him,  and  then  with  a  sigh  he  went  back 
to  his  attic.  So  his  fate  was  sealed.  Even  Salka,  kind, 
sweet-voiced,  warm-hearted  Salka,  whom  he  had  made 


84  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

the  receptacle  of  his  doubts  and  anxieties,  and  who 
had  ever  requited  his  confidence  with  her  sympathy, 
even  Salka  flouted  him.  Yes,  he  was  only  torturing 
himself  in  vain. 

But  it  was  not  the  ledger  Salka  was  so  "busy  with; 
it  was  a  reckoning  of  her  own,  and  she  was  well  aware 
that  the  sight  of  Enoch  might  in  some  way  interfere 
with  her  result.  And  at  that  result  she  must  arrive 
quickly;  time  was  pressing. 

The  day  sped  on,  both  for  Zillah  and  Salka,  with 
relentless  rapidity.  Zillah  was  calm — the  stillness  of 
a  dammed-up  torrent.  But  Salka  held  her  feelings 
less  under  lock  and  key.  As  the  afternoon  wore  on,  a 
fever  of  impatience  painted  her  pale  face  with  crimson 
eagerness.  Her  brain  had  become  a  machine  of  blood 
and  tissue,  and  its  wheels  were  revolving  restlessly, 
straining  their  sweep  and  compass  without  mercy,  to 
achieve  their  task  betimes.  And  at  last,  towards  even 
ing,  the  color  began  to  fade,  for  her  thoughts  no 
longer  hustled  and  jostled  each  other;  they  were 
shaping  themselves  out  of  chaos  into  a  compact  resolve. 
So  she  sat  back  in  her  chair,  closing  her  eyes  like  one 
who  has  done  his  work  well,  and  can  afford  to  wait 
patiently  for  the  issue. 

About  a  quarter  to  seven,  Zillah,  or  something  that 
looked  very  much  like  her,  came  down  and  said: — 

"  Had  you  not  better  go  now  ?  " 

"Yes,"  and  Salka  rose  readily;  "what  shall  I  tell 
him?" 

"  Tell  him  that  I  shall  come  at  nine." 

Salka  had  to  strain  her  ears  so  as  to  catch  the  words. 
With  a  swift  movement  she  drew  down  Zillah's  head, 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  85 

and  touched  her  lips  with  her  own.  At  the  same  time 
she  looked  deep  into  her  eyes.  What  she  saw  in  them 
made  her  heart  give  a  bound  of  delight.  Clearly  she 
read  there  as  from  a  manuscript  on  which  Zillah's 
soul  had  penned :  "  Save  me  from  myself !  " 

The  next  moment  Salka  was  out  in  the  street, 
traversing  the  distance  to  the  station  with  flying  feet. 
Quickly  she  recapitulated  to  herself  the  reflections 
that  had  helped  her  to  her  resolution.  She  would 
save  her  sister — that  had  been  her  starting-point  all 
along.  It  was  not  fulfilling  a  duty,  it  was  only  a 
chance,  given  her  by  God's  mercy,  of  redeeming  herself 
from  a  deadly  sin.  At  the  eleventh  hour,  as  it  were, 
the  film  of  blindness  had  been  withdrawn  from  her 
vision.  She  had  seen,  and  had  stood  shuddering  as 
before  an  abyss.  She  had  been  content  for  the  sake  of 
an  iniquitous  love,  of  which  the  gratification  was  at 
best  uncertain  and  precarious,  to  pay  the  price  of  a 
sister's  undoing  and  disownment,  to  pay  for  it  with 
her  parents'  broken  hearts.  She  was  the  parricide — 
not  Zillah.  Had  Zillah  not  said,  that  but  for  her 
prompting,  her  encouragement,  she  might  never  have 
had  the  fortitude  to  cast  herself  afloat  on  those  strange 
seas  beyond? 

And  the  sinful  desire  which  had  not  yet  entirely 
taken  its  sting  from  out  her  bosom  ?  It  did  not  mat 
ter;  it  would  count  as  nothing  beside  the  gladness  of 
her  self-retrieving.  It  was  a  weed,  and  it  would  die 
of  its  own  loathsomeness. 

Thank  God  there  was  yet  time. 

She  had  come  to  the  station  turnstile  that  admitted 
on  to  the  platform.  The  locomotive  was  getting  up 


86  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

steam;  porters  and  passengers  were  hurrying  in  the 
wild  pell-mell  that  precedes  imminent  departure. 
But  in  the  midst  of  the  confusion  the  tall  figure  of  the 
Commissioner  was  striding  up  and  down  leisurely,  his 
hands  in  his  pockets.  He  knew  the  train  would  not 
leave  without  him  unless  he  willed  it  so.  Outwardly 
he  was  calm — so  calm  that  no  one  would  have  suspected 
for  a  moment  that  he  was  envying  the  locomotive  for 
being  able  to  give  vent  to  its  feelings  without  running 
the  risk  of  comment. 

As  he  turned  back,  he  caught  sight  of  Salka  in  the 
dim  lantern-light,  and  came  quickly  towards  her. 

"I  was  sure  she  would  send  a  messenger,"  he  said, 
eagerly.  "  So  I  must  wait  till  nine  ?  " 

Salka's  breath  came  fast.     God  help  her  now. 

"  You  need  not  wait ;  my  sister  is  not  coming,"  she 
answered  without  a  quaver. 

Then  she  stepped  back;  in  a  moment  the  storm 
would  break.  Presently  he  would  begin  to  fume  and 
rave  and  threaten:  already  she  seemed  to  feel  his 
blows  tingling  on  her  face. 

But  no — he  remained  silent;  and  yet  this  silence 
was  more  terrible  than  would  have  been  an  avalanche 
of  rage. 

After  a  while  his  lips  moved. 

"  Why  not  ?  "     She  almost  had  to  guess  the  question. 

"  Because  she  belongs  to  a  race  which  imparted  to 
the  world  the  commandment:  'Thou  shalt  honor  thy 
father  and  mother/"  replied  Salka,  mechanically. 
She  had  conned  her  lesson  well. 

"  Where  is  she  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly. 

"  At  home." 


DAUGHTEES  OF  SHEM  87 

".Then  I  shall  fetch  her/5  he  said,  turning  on  his 
heel. 

Salka's  heart  beat  like  a  sledge-hammer. 

"It  is  useless,  your  Honor,"  she  said,  following 
him  and  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm ;  "  it  is  useless, 
I  assure  you.  You  will  find  her  at  her  mother's  bed 
side.  Her  mother  has  not  left  her  couch  for  three 
years,  but  she  will  be  strong  as  a  tigress  when  it  comes 
to  struggling  for  her  child,  and  I  think  you  can  guess 
on  whose  side  will  be  the  victory." 

He  had  stopped  and  was  looking  at  her  dazed;  then 
he  said:  "Yes,  I  can  guess.  She  asked  you  to  tell  me 
all  this — she,  your  sister?" 

"  She  asks  you  to  forgive  her  and  to  forget  her. 
She  says  she  will  pray  every  day  to  our  God  for  your 
welfare;  she  will  beg  Him  to  make  you  the  equal  of 
the  greatest  in  the  land,  to  be  good  to  you  for  the 
sake  of  the  goodness  you  had  promised  her." 

He  seemed  to  be  waking  from  his  trance. 

"Goodness?"  he  uttered  with  a  bitter  laugh. 
"What  goodness?  I  had  promised  her  my  love,  my 
name, — but  there  was  no  kindness  in  that;  it  was  only 
selfishness.  I  wanted  her  heart  though  she  brought 
it  to  me  bleeding  from  a  thousand  wounds.  And 
therefore  your  God  has  punished  me  for  it,  and  has 
taken  from  me  what  I  coveted  so  greedily,  in  the  very 
hour  I  had  hoped  for  its  attainment.  Ah!  this  old 
God  of  yours  is  very  powerful;  yes,  let  her  pray  to 
Him  for  me,  to  send  me  comfort,  even  as  He  has  sent 
punishment.  Oh,  must  I  believe  it?  She  will  not 
come — is  she  sure  she  will  not?  There  is  still  time, 
you  know " 


88  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Salka  shook  her  head;  her  heart  was  too  full  for 
speech.  He  was  strong,  indeed,  the  God  of  Israel, 
and  more  than  that,  He  protected  His  children. 

The  iron  horse  on  the  rails  stood  champing  and 
quivering;  presently  it  snorted.  The  Commissioner 
came  close  to  Salka  on  the  spur  of  a  sudden  thought. 

"  When  did  you  kiss  her  last  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  girl  looked  at  him  in  terror — had  he  gone  mad  ? 

"  When  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"Just  before  I  came  here,"  she  replied,  trembling. 

The  next  instant  he  had  caught  her  tight,  his  beard 
was  grazing  her  face,  his  lips  burnt  on  hers.  Then 
he  let  her  go. 

"  I  have  not  been  cheated  out  of  that  at  least,"  he 
said;  "it  was  to  have  been  mine  when  we  were  to 
meet  with  no  parting  before  us.  Tell  her  she  has 
given  it  to  me  by  proxy.  My  Madonna  of  the  frontier ! 
She  will  know  how  much  I  loved  her,  if  I  can  leave 
her." 

He  turned  quickly,  and  made  his  way  into  the  com 
partment. 

The  guard  signalled — the  steam  horse  gathered  itself 
up  and  moved. 

The  Commissioner  stood  at  the  window,  and  waved 
his  hand  to  Salka. 
********* 

Salka  remained  on  the  platform  long  after  the  rear- 
lights  of  the  train  had  become  swallowed  up  in  the 
darkness.  With  a  sigh  that  was  more  a  sob,  she  started 
on  her  way  home.  She  was  safe — her  sister  was  safe. 

All  that  now  remained  was  to  tell  her  so.     When  she 


DAUGHTERS  OF  SHEM  89 

reached  the  house,  she  found  Zillah  in  the  kitchen 
counting  the  contents  of  a  little  iron  casket. 

"  This  is  all  I  am  going  to  take  with  me,"  she  said 
without  looking  up ;  "  about  a  hundred  roubles  I  have 
saved;  I  may  need  them." 

"  You  will  not  need  them — at  least  not  to-night," 
replied  Salka. 

Zillah  raised  her  head. 

"  Then  he  has  put  off  his  departure  ? "  she  asked, 
her  eyes  radiant  with  a  flash  of  hope.  "  Have  his 
despatches  been  revoked  ?  " 

"  No,  they  have  not  been  revoked.     He  has  gone." 

"Gone?" 

"I  saw  the  train  carry  him  away — I  swear  to 
you  I  saw  it.  I  told  him  that  you  had  changed  your 
mind,  that  you  could  not  bear  to  desert  your  parents 
on  earth  and  your  Father  in  heaven — that  you  would 
die  of  it;  and  he  went  away  to  ^rove  how  he  loved  you. 
You  can  kill  me  for  it,  but  I  could  not  do  otherwise." 

Zillah  listened,  and  her  face  became  transfigured. 

"  You  say  that  this  was  your  doing  ?  "  came  slowly 
from  her.  "  You  flatter  yourself.  It  was  not  yours — 
it  was  my  good  angel's;  he  has  entered  into  you,  he 
has  taken  your  shape  and  voice.  I  have  missed  him 
these  last  days;  he  had  abandoned  me,  and  had  taken 
my  conscience  with  him.  Or  else  would  I  not  have 
heeded  my  mother  when  she  asked  me  to  be  a  true 
daughter  to  her?  I  knew  I  was  rushing  into  the 
arms  of  my  evil  destiny,  but  I  did  not  struggle,  for 
dimly,  darkly  I  felt  that  help  would  come  in  the  ex- 
tremest  hour  of  the  peril.  Salka,  what  can  I  do  to 
repay  you  ?  " 


90  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"You  can  marry  Enoch,"  replied  Salka,  quickly; 
"you  owe  it,  not  to  me,  but  to  your  parents;  it  will 
be  your  reparation  for  the  wrong  you  all  but  did  them. 
Hush!" 

She  held  up  her  finger  warningly.  Enoch  was  heard 
descending  the  staircase. 

"  Can  you  oblige  me  with  a  piece  of  cord  ?  "  he  asked, 
stopping  at  the  door. 

"  For  what  purpose,  pray  ?  "  asked  Salka. 

"I  am  packing — my  train  leaves  at  five  to-morrow 
morning.  I  cannot  afford  to  neglect  my  affairs  any 
longer." 

"Wait  here  a  moment,"  said  Salka,  hurrying  out. 
"  I  shall  look  for  some  upstairs." 

He  took  a  step  forward,  and  stood  gazing  vacantly 
into  a  corner.  Suddenly  he  felt  a  light  touch  on  his 
hand.  Zillah  was  quite  close  to  him. 

"  And  suppose  I  am  one  of  your  affairs  ?  "  she  asked 
with  downcast  eyes. 

"Zillah!"  he  shouted. 

She  raised  her  glance,  and  looked  at  him  solemnly. 
She  saw  the  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  silently  tightened 
her  clasp  on  his  hand. 

Five  minutes  afterwards  AnshePs  vehicle  pulled  up 
outside  the  door.  Salka  stood  on  the  step. 

"  News,  good  news,"  she  whispered  to  him. 

But  Anshel  needed  no  telling.    He  had  guessed. 


MUMMER  AND  MORALIST        ; 

EVERYBODY  in  the  town  called  them  "Mella"  and 
"  Uscher,"  which  is  Yiddish  for  "  Darby  and  Joan/'  or, 
more  correctly,  "  Joan  and  Darby/'  the  Yiddish  herein 
showing  off  to  greater  advantage  than  the  English  by 
its  place  aux  dames.  This  might  give  rise  to  the  mis 
apprehension  that  Mella  and  Uscher  were  a  married 
couple.  So  let  it  be  stated  at  once  that  both  members 
of  the  combination  belonged  to  the  male  sex;  but  as 
they  were  more  inseparable,  and  did  almost  as  much 
quarrelling,  as  most  husbands  and  wives,  they  had  a 
fairly  good  right  to  the  appellation.  Indeed,  the  nick 
name  had  so  engrafted  itself  on  their  own  minds  that 
they  neither  knew  nor  called  each  other  by  anything 
else.  The  two  had  come  to  Borstchick  on  their  travels 
— the  word  must  not  suggest  tourist  tickets — and 
either  Mella  or  Uscher,  they  had  long  forgotten  which, 
had  fallen  ill  and  had  been  nursed  well  again  at  the 
"  Hekdish,"  the  itinerant  paupers'  ward.  Out  of  grati 
tude  they  had  resolved  to  make  the  town  a  gift  of  their 
valuable  presences.  They  were  now  almost  middle- 
aged  men,  and  acted  as  factotums  to  the  little  place. 
They  went  errands,  executed  commissions,  did  a  little 
corn-brokering,  helped  to  make  the  prayer-quorum  at 
houses  of  mourning,  and  by  all  sorts  of  odd  jobs  tried 
to  keep  their  balance-sheet  even. 

If  they  could  at  all  be  said  to  have  a  profession,  apart 
from  being  jacks-of -all-trades,   it  would   be   that  of 


92  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  batchan,"  or  "  poyatz,"  or  "  marshallik,"  all  of  which 
mean  accredited  buffoons  who  give  their  entertainments 
on  occasions  of  family  festivities.  In  private,  the  two 
had  come  to  look  upon  themselves  as  flesh  of  one  flesh 
and  bone  of  one  bone,  and  the  scurrilous  abuse  which 
they  levelled  against  each  other  on  most  occasions 
was  merely  the  overflow  of  their  mutual  affections,  be 
sides  keeping  their  hands,  or,  rather,  their  tongues, 
in  at  their  business.  So,  for  instance,  Mella  was  small 
and  wizened,  Uscher  large  and  fleshy,  and  this  would 
give  rise  to  comments  of  this  sort: — 

"Mella,  I  have  an  idea  you  will  never  die;  and  why? 
Because  it  is  only  people  with  souls  that  die.  But 
where  is  there  room  for  a  soul  in  a  midget  like  you?  " 

"And  when  you  die,  Uscher,"  would  be  the  quick 
retort,  "the  angel  of  death  will  ask  the  Almighty  for 
a  new  slaughtering-knife;  and  why?  Because  he  will 
think  he  has  slaughtered  a  pig  in  error." 

"  Transgressor  in  Israel!  " 

"  Eater  of  swine's  flesh!  " 

"Apostate!" 

"Sabbath-drudge!" 

"  That  reminds  me,"  continued  Uscher  as  if  nothing 
had  happened,  "that  reminds  me  that  you  have  not 
yet  breakfasted;  you  must  be  hungry.  Let  me  run  to 
Lieb  Klapka,  the  huckster,  and  fetch  bread  and  her 
rings." 

"  No,  Uscher,  let  me  go  myself — it  is  very  wet:  your 
boots  leak,  and  you  have  a  cough." 

"  Don't  prate,  I  shall  go." 

"No,  I  shall." 

"  Obstinate." 


MUMMER  AND  MORALIST  93 

"  Sheep's  head." 

"  Fool's  carcass." 

"  Beast  of  the  field."  And  so  the  tussle  would  begin 
over  again. 

But  despite  the  numerous  strings  to  their  bow,  things 
were  sometimes  very  fine-cut  in  the  Mella-cum-Uscher 
household,  especially  in  winter,  when  open-air  trans 
actions  became  very  irksome.  And  therefore  it  seemed 
to  them  a  special  dispensation  of  Providence  that  just 
in  winter  should  fall  the  Jewish  festivals  whereon 
merry-making  is  much  encouraged.  First,  though 
somewhat  early  in  the  season,  comes  the  Rejoicing  in 
the  Law.  Then  there  is  the  Festival  of  Lights,  on 
which  the  memory  of  the  Maccabees  is  made  much  of, 
and  finally  the  Feast  of  Lots.  Of  the  three,  Mella  and 
Uscher  preferred  the  Festival  of  Lights  by  a  long  way. 
For  one  thing,  it  spreads  over  eight  days,  and  there 
fore  gives  wide  scope  for  a  good  harvest.  It  is  also  a 
favorite  time  for  engagement  parties  and  marriages, 
when  the  hearts  of  men  are  light,  and  a  copeck  or  two 
is  not  a  matter  of  much  account.  Consequently,  Mella 
and  Uscher  made  good  use  of  their  opportunities,  map 
ping  out  a  seven  nights'  programme;  the  eighth,  of 
course,  was  accounted  for  by  the  intervening  Sabbath 
eve,  when  the  handling  of  money,  even  in  charity,  is 
among  things  forbidden.  Every  evening  they  made  a 
raid  on  another  house,  confining  themselves  to  men 
of  note  in  the  congregation,  and,  by  preference,  to 
those  who  were  celebrating  some  joyous  event. 

When  Uscher  came  home  on  the  day  preceding  this 
particular  Festival  of  Lights,  he  'found  Mella  looking 
thoughtful  and  downcast. 


94  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"What  ails  you,  you  scum  of  the  earth?"  he  asked 
solicitously. 

"  I  shall  tell  you/'  replied  Mella,  for  once  neglecting 
to  return  the  compliment.  "  I  have  been  thinking 
over  this  poyatz  business  of  ours,  and  I  have  become 
very  dissatisfied  with  it." 

"  No  doubt,"  jeered  Uscher,  "  you  would  prefer  to 
be  made  Warden  of  the  congregation — an  evil  spirit 
into  your  father! " 

"  Not  that/'  went  on  Mella,  heedless  of  the  impreca 
tion;  "but  it  has  struck  me  it  is  not  fit  and  proper 
for  men  of  our  years  to  play  antics  in  public,  and  call 
each  other  names,  and  bespatter  one  the  other  with 
abuse,  just  to  make  people  laugh.  Of  course,  what  we 
do  when  by  ourselves,  and  for  our  own  diversion,  is  a 
different  matter.  But  yesterday  I  found  a  grey  hair 
in  my  beard,  and — and  Uscher,  as  I  live,  I  blushed, 
and  thanked  God  I  have  no  children/' 

"  Yes,  it  is  true,"  agreed  Useher,  becoming  very 
serious.  "  But  how  is  a  bear  first  made  to  dance  ?  He 
is  put  on  an  oven-plate,  with  his  forefeet  over  the  fire, 
and  when  they  begin  to  feel  hot,  he  tries  to  stand  upon 
his  hind  feet,  which  are  on  a  spot  where  the  oven  is 
cold.  In  the  same  way  I  feel  hot  and  cold  at  one  and 
the  same  time,  when  I  think  of  how  to  get  my  liveli 
hood — and,  therefore,  I  dance.  What  are  we  to  do  ?  " 

"  That  is  the  difficult  part,"  said  Mella,  mournfully. 
"  I  have  been  racking  my  brain  over  it  all  the  morning. 
If  we  had  a  few  hundred  roubles,  we  might  set  up  a 
shop  and  make  good  bargains  and  live  respectably. 
But  who  is  to  give  us  a  few  hundred  roubles  ?  " 

"  Who?  "  echoed  Useher,  in  sepulchral  tone. 


MUMMEK  AND  MORALIST  95 

The  two  sat  silent.  After  a  while  Mella  resumed. 
"  I  have  an  idea.  We  can  certainly  not  give  up  the 
poyatz  business  for  the  present;  hut,"  and  a  hopeful 
look  came  into  his  eyes,  "  we  can  improve  it." 

Uscher  looked  up  interrogatively. 

"  Yes/'  continued  Mella,,  "  instead  of  playing  farces 
and  buffooneries,  can  we  not  concoct  a  piece  that  has  a 
moral  in  it — something  to  instruct  and  elevate  the 
minds  of  those  who  listen?  What  else  does  the  Mag- 
gid,  the  travelling  preacher?  He  tells  the  people 
stories,  and  from  them  they  draw  a  conclusion  how  to 
act  and  how  not  to  act.  And  you  see  with  what  re 
spect  he  is  treated  wherever  he  comes.  Let  us  try  also 
to  please  and  teach  people,  without  making  a  laughing 
stock  of  ourselves.  Look  here." 

He  rummaged  in  a  tattered  portfolio,  until  he  suc 
ceeded  in  fishing  out  a  dilapidated  manuscript. 

"  This  is  from  my  elder  brother,  who  is  Precentor 
and  Slaughterer  in  Skulm — a  great  scholar,"  he  ex 
plained  with  pride.  "He  sent  it  me  three  years  ago, 
it  may  he — see,  it  is  written  in  the  holy  language.  Ah, 
poyatz  though  I  am,  I  have  not  forgotten  all  I  learned 
in  the  Talmud  Academy  at  Vilosen.  Come,  listen." 

He  spread  the  sheet  carefully  on  the  table,  took  out 
his  horn-rimmed  spectacles,  and  translated: 

"To  my  beloved  brother,  towards  whom  my  soul  is 
stretching  out  its  arms  in  loving  desire.  Verily,  it  is 
a  long  time  since  news  has  passed  between  us,  and  I 
write  this  to  ascertain  if  thou  art  indeed  yet  to  be 
counted  among  the  living." 

"What  has  that  to  do  with  your  idea?"  queried 
Uscher,  impatiently. 


96  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Wait  a  minute,"  said  Mella,  and  read  on  leisurely: 

"It  is  in  truth  a  sad  and  sorrowful  thing  that  sons 
of  one  father  and  mother  should  dwell  asunder.  But 
complaint  is  the  fool's  remedy  for  sorrow.  Bather  will 
I  proceed  to  give  thee  tidings  concerning  myself.  In 
the  first  place,  then,  my  wife  has — praised  be  the 
Name — borne  me  yet  another  daughter,  so  that  the 
number  of  my  offspring  has  risen  to  twelve — a  holy 
number,  inasmuch  as  such  was  the  total  of  the  tribes  of 
Israel." 

"  May  the  tribes  of  Israel  be  damaged,"  shouted 
TJscher,  recklessly.  "  Why  don't  you  come  to  the  root 
of  the  matter?" 

"I  am  coming  to  it  now,"  and  Mella  resumed  with 
much  more  expedition:  "As  to  the  question  of  my 
fortunes,  they  are  such  as  they  are,  only  somewhat 
worse  than  they  should  be, — praised  be  the  Name, — 
especially  as  Peretz  Wedel,  who  was  the  butcher  of 
most  account  in  the  neighborhood,  has  left  the  town, 
so  that  there  has  been  great  abatement  in  my  source 
of  income  from  slaughtering." 

"May  you  and  your  brother  and  Peretz  Wedel  all 
meet  in  Gehennom,"  cried  Uscher,  exasperated. 

"  Presently,  presently,"  said  Mella,  preoccupied  with 
his  letter,  which  continued  thus: — 

"  But  the  way  and  manner  in  which  Peretz  Wedel 
left  the  town  is  a  thing  calling  for  special  comment,  and 
I  shall  relate  to  thee  in  all  detail  in  what  fashion  he 
parted  from  his  wife.  For  I  was  at  the  time  in  my 
slaughter-house,  sharpening  my  knife  for  the  geese, 
which  at  this  season  are  killed  in  great  numbers,  and 
it  happens  that  the  poultry-shambles  are  divided  from 


MUMMER  AND  MORALIST  97 

Peretz  Wedel's  dwelling  only  by  a  thin  partition.  For 
he  lived  close  by,  he  being  the  Treasurer  for  the 
Krupka,  the  killing-tax,  to  wit.  So  listen,  for  it  will 
give  thee  great  insight  into  the  ways  of  certain  men 
in  the  treatment  of  their  wives." 

Mella  paused,  out  of  breath,  and  looked  significantly 
at  Uscher.  Then  he  recommenced  his  reading,  and 
TJscher  at  first  listened  with  a  sullen  look  on  his  face. 
Then  gradually  his  eyes  brightened  with  interest,  and 
as  Mella  ran  on,  the  narrative  gripped  him,  and  held 
his  attention  till  the  end. 

"  I  see  your  meaning  now,"  he  said,  when  Mella  had 
stopped;  "  you  would  have  us  rehearse  this  scene  which 
took  place  between  Peretz  and  his  wife,  so  that  hus 
bands  may  take  warning  not  to  go  and  do  likewise." 

"That  was  exactly  my  meaning,"  replied  Mella. 
"  Let  us  learn  the  words  such  as  they  are  transcribed  in 
my  brother's  letter,  and  when  we  go  into  the  houses 
and  are  called  upon  to  entertain  the  assembly,  we  shall 
set  forth  this  thing  as  it  happened.  And  there  will  be 
no  need  to  make  grimaces,  but  we  must  speak  the  words 
with  a  countenance  no  less  staid  than  the  Maggid's." 

"  I  am  of  your  mind  entirely,"  said  Uscher,  "  only 
let  us  hasten,  for  to-morrow  the  festival  begins." 

"  And  to-morrow,  too,  is  the  Tnoyim  at  Benjamin 
the  baker's,  when  his  daughter  is  to  be  promised  in 
marriage  to  Rummle  Klinker,  the  cattle  dealer,  and 
there  is  to  be  a  great  feast.  And  where  is  it  a  more 
fitting  place  to  speak  of  these  things  than  in  the 
presence  of  those  who  are  shortly  to  be  joined  in  wed 
lock?" 

"Where,  indeed?  Tell  me,  Mella,  who  is  this 
Rummle  Klinker?" 


98  STKANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

"There  you  know  as  much  as  I  do — how  he  came 
here  two,  or  it  may  be  three,  years  ago,  and  being 
possessed  of  some  little  wealth,  as  it  appeared,  and 
being  withal  no  stupid-head,  soon  became  a  man  of 
note  in  the  congregation;  and  being,  moreover,  a  bach 
elor,  though  no  more  in  his  first  youth,  he  was  in  great 
request  for  a  son-in-law  among  the  masters  of  houses. 
And  now  he  is  going  to  marry  Blumah,  the  baker's 
daughter,  the  prettiest  girl  in  the  town." 

"  They  say  there  is  not  much  love  in  the  matter — 
on  her  side,"  said  Uscher  in  a  half -whisper. 

"  They  say,"  echoed  Mella,  scornfully.  "  I  can  swear 
to  it;  not  for  nothing  have  I  gone  in  and  out  of  Benja 
min's  house  these  many  years.  The  bridegroom  she 
would  like  to  have  is  Eophel,  the  sexton's  son — a  golden 
young  man,  I  tell  you — a  head  on  wheels;  did  he  not 
pass  all  the  eight  classes  of  the  Gymnasium  in  two  years 
— overnight,  so  to  speak  ?  But,  then,  he  is  poor,  and  a 
poor  man's  knowledge  dies  in  his  belly,  as  the  saying  is, 
I  should  give  two  copecks  to  the  charity  box,  if  some 
miracle  should  happen,  and  Kophel  should  marry 
Blumah  after  all." 

"What  is  the  use  of  talking  about  miracles?"  said 
the  more  matter-of-fact  Uscher.  "Can  you  perform 
miracles?  If  you  can,  pray  make  me  a  millionaire 
immediately.  What  difference  does  it  make  who  mar 
ries  Blumah?  Rather  let  us  come  to  the  business  in 
hand." 

Thereupon  commenced  an  eager  discussion  how  the 
whole  thing  was  to  be  arranged.  The  apportioning  of 
the  parts  was  an  easy  question,  in  which  they  were 
mainly  guided  by  their  respective  physiques,  Uscher 


MUMMEK  AND  MOEALIST  99 

being  cut  out  for  the  husband,  and  Mella  for  the  wife. 
The  question  of  costume  was  also  satisfactorily  settled. 
All  that  was  necessary  would  be  a  skirt  and  a  shawl  for 
Mella,  and  though  his  scraggy  little  beard  somewhat 
discounted  him  as  a  type  of  perfect  femininity,  all  the 
more  scope  would  be  left  to  the  audience  for  exercising 
their  powers  of  idealization.  The  whole  day  long  they 
went  hammer  and  tongs  at  the  rehearsing  of  their  parts, 
and  on  the  morrow  they  felt  certain  that  this  new  de 
parture  in  their  line  of  business  would  effect  a  great 
sensation. 

The  whole  town  was  astir  with  the  engagement  of 
Blumah,  the  baker's  daughter,  to  Eummle  Klinker,  the 
rich  cattle  dealer.  "Bread  to  meat,  a  good  match," 
the  joke  went  round.  Everybody  who  was  anybody 
had  been  invited,  and  intended  to  come;  and  in  honor 
of  the  occasion  old  Benjamin  had  baked  a  Sabbath 
loaf  which,  for  dimensions,  was  the  eighth  wonder  of 
the  world.  In  the  evening  the  reception-room  was 
lighted  up  by  nine  candelabra,  seven  of  which  Mother 
Riffka  had  borrowed  from  the  neighbors. 

At  the  head  of  the  table  sat  Blumah  and  Rummle; 
the  former  pale,  her  eyes  downcast  with  a  suspicion  of 
redness,  the  result  of  weeping,  about  them.  But  then 
it  was  natural;  was  she  not  soon  to  leave  her  parents' 
house?  Rummle  had  a  smug  and  complacent  air,  an 
impression  produced  chiefly  by  a  lavish  expanse  of 
loud-colored  waistcoat.  Every  now  and  then  he  shot 
a  sideway  glance  at  his  silent  bride,  to  find  out  what 
caused  that  startled  shiver  to  run  through  her  each 
time  he  took  her  hand  in  his.  At  the  farthest  end 
of  the  room,  crouching  back  deep  into  the  window 


100  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

niche,  sat  Eophel,  the  gymnasiast  who  had  passed  the 
eight  classes  of  the  High  School  in  two  years,  and 
wondered  if  by  passing  eight  more  he  might  learn  how 
to  drive  the  gnawing  pain  out  of  his  heart. 

Suddenly  a  stir  ran  round  the  gathering. 

"  The  players  have  come,"  went  from  mouth  to 
mouth.  "Now  we  shall  hear  something — no  doubt 
they  will  excel  themselves  to-night." 

A  burst  of  uproarious  laughter  greeted  Mella  and 
Uscher  as  they  entered.  They  were  used  to  this  kind 
of  reception,  and,  therefore,  did  not  feel  disconcerted. 
So  they  waited  till  the  merriment  had  subsided,  and 
then  Mella  stepped  forward  and  said: 

"My  masters,  it  has  hitherto  been  our  custom  to 
amuse  you  with  clown  tricks  and  with  things  that  pro 
voke  much  laughter.  But,  henceforth,  it  is  our  resolve 
to  be  no  longer  poyatzes,  but,  by  enacting  scenes  of  se 
rious  import,  teach  you  lessons  with  regard  to  the 
ordering  of  your  lives.  And  for  a  sample  we  shall 
submit  to  your  approval  a  tragedy  entitled  'The  De 
serted  Wife.' " 

Scarcely  had  he  finished,  when  the  laughter  broke 
out  again  with  redoubled  force.  Mella  and  Uscher 
play  a  tragedy — the  "Deserted  Wife,"  with  Mella,  as 
was  evident  from  his  get-up,  in  the  title  role — it  was 
too  funny!  Even  the  sad-faced  Blumah  indulged  in  a 
momentary  smile,  and  Eophel,  who  was  devouring  her 
from  behind  the  window-drapery,  felt  a  sullen  anger 
shoot  through  him;  how  could  she  smile  when  he  was 
aching  himself  crazy  with  secret  sorrow?  The  only 
one  who,  to  the  watchful  eye  of  Uscher,  seemed  to  be 
taking  the  matter  in  its  proper  light,  was  the  bride- 


MUMMEE  AND  MOBALIST  101 

groom  himself.  He  kept  quite  serious — indeed,  so  se 
rious,  that  he  could  pour  himself  out  a  glass  of  neat 
brandy  with  a  steady  hand,  and  swallow  it  at  one  gulp. 
And  Kummle  Klinker  was  probably  old  enough  to  know 
what  a  dangerous  thing  it  is  to  pour  raw  spirits  down 
one's  throat,  if  one  feels  the  slightest  inclination  to 
laugh.  Mella  was  right — Kummle  was,  indeed,  no 
stupid-head,  and,  therefore,  would,  Uscher  hoped, 
value  their  services  at  their  full  worth. 

Much  encouraged  by  this  reflection,  Uscher  deter 
mined  to  put  his  heart  and  soul  into  the  business. 
Quickly  a  space  was  cleared  for  the  stage,  and  the 
requisite  scenery  furnished  in  the  shape  of  a  stool. 
The  piece  began  with  a  soliloquy  of  Mella,  who,  seated 
on  the  said  stool,  commenced  to  rock  himself  violently, 
pulled  at  his  hair  with  great  gusto,  and  gave  other 
indications  of  being  in  a  perturbed  state  of  mind. 

"  Oh,  a  sorrow  has  come  upon  my  young  years,  a 
destruction  and  a  blight  on  my  innocent  blood,"  he 
wailed.  "  Woe,  woe  is  me !  What  have  I  done  to  de 
serve  this?  Have  I  not  duly  taken  tithe  of  the  dough 
for  the  Sabbath  bread — have  I  not  sanctified  the  can 
dles  every  Friday  eve — have  I  not  strictly  kept  apart 
the  crockery  that  may  be  used  for  meat,  and  that  which 
may  be  used  for  butter?  Have  I  not  observed  all  the 
injunctions  which  our  Holy  Law  has  laid  upon  us 
housewives  ?  But  it  was  all  in  vain,  and  I  shall  be  left 
solitary  with  my  two  little  children  whom  their  fathei 
has  cast  off,  for  an  evil  spirit  has  crept  into  his  under 
standing. — Vy,  vy,  vy,  woe  is  me ! " 

This  was  the  cue  for  Uscher  to  come  on;  but  it  was 
taken  up  instead  by  the  audience,  which  had  been 


102  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

struggling  with,  its  mirth,  and  now  let  it  escape  in  a 
tremendous  guffaw.  The  idea  of  Mella  performing  the 
duties  of  a  Jewish  matron,  Mella  deserted  with  two  lit 
tle  children — it  was  screamingly  absurd! 

Uscher  looked  round  indignantly.  The  blockheads! 
Could  they  not  grasp  that  all  this  was  meant  in  earnest? 
And  then  he  caught  Rummle's  face;  it  looked  sober  and 
serious.  Here  at  least  was  a  man  of  intelligence,  who 
saw  the  drift  and  purpose  of  their  action,  and  no  doubt 
would  explain  it  to  the  others.  So,  seizing  on  a  mo 
mentary  lull,  he  strutted  up,  and  addressed  Mella. 

"  Art  thou  not  a  piece  of  folly  ?  What  is  the  use  of 
thy  lamentations?  I  tell  thee  my  resolve  is  fixed;  not 
all  the  rains  that  fall  between  Holy  Convocation  and 
the  first  day  of  Passover  shall  wash  it  away." 

At  this  place  Mella  did  not  give  the  audience  time 
to  laugh,  but  went  on  at  once: 

"  Peretz,  why  art  thou  determined  to  put  this  shame 
upon  me  ?  When  I  shall  go  out,  the  women  will  point 
their  fingers  at  me  and  jeer:  f  Look,  there  she  goes 
who  gave  her  husband  the  topmost  of  the  potatoes, 
and  the  bottommost  of  the  soup,  and,  therefore,  he  has 
left  her  to  her  own  devices.' 9i 

"  I  do  not  care  what  the  women  will  say — that  is 
their  business;  but  as  for  me,  I  cannot  help  that  God 
has  put  this  distaste  for  thee  into  my  heart.  And, 
therefore,  is  it  not  the  best  thing  for  the  pair  of  us  that 
I  should  get  me  gone,  inasmuch  as  it  will  save  us 
wrangling  and  quarrelling  such  as  must  needs  result 
where  the  husband  and  wife  are  not  of  one  understand 
ing?  As  soon  as  I  can,  I  shall  send  thee  the  divorce 
by  two  witnesses." 


MUMMEE  AND  MOEALIST  103 

"  I  shall  not  take  thy  divorce,"  shrieked  Mella.  "  I 
shall  wait  till  God  has  changed  thy  mind,  and  thou 
returnest.  Oh,  Peretz,  what  is  to  become  of  me  and 
our  two  little  ones?  " 

"What  is  to  become  of  you?"  cried  Uscher,  with 
great  show  of  exasperation.  "Do  ye  go  and  die  the 
healthiest  death  ye  can  find;  and  do  not  wait  for  my 
return,  for  I  am  going  away  to  find  myself  a  maiden 
with  a  face  and  a  pair  of  shoulders " 

Uscher  could  not  go  on,  for  here  a  great  burst  of 
hilarity  interrupted  his  speech.  Trembling  with  anger, 
he  cast  his  eyes  round  the  gathering,  which  had  turned 
into  a  screaming,  kicking,  side-shaking  mass  of  laugh 
ing  humanity.  But  when  he  looked  at  Eummle,  a  great 
fright  came  over  him,  for  Eummle's  face  was  the  color 
of  chalk,  and  his  eyes  were  starting  from  their  sockets. 

"  The  bridegroom — look,"  he  cried,  at  the  top  of 
his  voice,  pointing  to  Eummle.  In  an  instant  every 
gaze  was  fastened  on  the  latter. 

"  It  is  nothing,"  said  Eummle,  thrusting  away  those 
who  had  rushed  to  his  assistance;  "  the  heat  has  over 
powered  me — see,  I  can  stand  again  firmly  on  my  feet, 
but  I  beg  you  will  excuse  me  for  leaving  you.  A  good 
night's  rest  will  be  the  best  medicine  for  me.  Let  not 
the  festivity  be  interrupted  on  my  account." 

A  great  confusion  followed  his  words,  in  the  midst 
of  which  he  made  his  escape.  The  guests  prepared  to 
take  their  leave — it  was  stupid:  who  ever  heard  of  an 
engagement  party  without  a  bridegroom?  And  when 
the  young  men  who  had  followed  Eummle  to  his  house 
came  back,  and  reported  that  he  had  locked  his  door, 
and  would  not  admit  any  one,  there  was  much  whisper- 


104  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

ing  and  shaking  of  heads;  it  did  not  seem  as  though  the 
blessing  of  Heaven  rested  on  the  match.  Rophel  had 
somehow  elbowed  his  way  to  Blumah,  and  if  they 
clasped  hands  for  a  moment,  and  looked  deep  into  each 
other's  eyes,  there  could  be  no  wrong  in  it.  Had  not 
Rummle  gone  away  without  putting  a  ring  on  Blumah' s 
finger  ? 

Mella  and  Uscher  slunk  home  as  disconsolately  as 
wolves  with  scalded  hides.  They  had  been  hustled  out 
somewhat  unceremoniously,  and,  of  course,  there  could 
be  no  thought  of  making  the  customary  collection. 

"  Satan,  the  envious,  has  caused  this  confusion,"  said 
Mella,  sadly;  "he  was  afraid  that  the  moral  of  our 
tale  would  turn  the  hearts  of  men  from  evil.  For  he 
knew  how  cunningly  we  had  tricked  it  out  with  words 
of  advice  and  exhortation,  and  the  best  part  was  yet  to 
come.  Ah!  the  moral  of  it — the  beautiful  moral  of  it." 

"  Pickle  your  moral  in  vinegar  and  onions,"  growled 
Uscher,  who  took  the  occurrence  less  philosophically; 
"for,  at  this  rate  of  payment,  it  is  all  you  are  likely 
to  have  for  breakfast,  dinner,  and  supper." 

"  Do  not  lose  heart,"  said  Mella,  reassuringly ;  "  re 
member,  this  is  only  the  first  eve  of  the  festival;  we 
shall  recoup  ourselves  on  the  others." 

This  was  Mella's  honest  intention,  which  only  one 
unforeseen  circumstance  interfered  with.  On  the  fol 
lowing  morning  he  found  that,  consequent  on  the  dif 
ference  of  the  temperature  between  the  warm  room  and 
the  cold  night  air,  he  had  contracted  a  severe  chill, 
which  in  turn  contracted  his  throat,  and  only  allowed 
his  voice  to  come  forth  in  the  shadow  and  semblance  of 
its  usual  self.  This  naturally  precluded  any  imme- 


MUMMER  AND  MORALIST  105 

diate  idea  of  repeating  the  performance.  Uscher 
watched  him,  looking  haggard  and  woe-begone,  but 
without  a  murmur  at  their  ill-luck.  About  midday 
he  went  out  for  a  little  while  to  fetch  provisions,  and 
when  he  came  back  his  face  had  the  air  of  one  who 
brings  strange  tidings. 

"Do  you  know,  Mella,  that  the  bridegroom  of  yes 
terday,  Rummle  Klinker,  has  left  the  town?" 

"  Well,  he  will  come  back,"  croaked  Mella,  hoarsely. 

"That  he  will  not>  because  he  has  disposed  of  his 
household  and  his  business.  Very  early  this  morning 
he  came  to  Lieb  Klapka,  the  huckster,  who  just  told 
me  the  tale,  and  before  the  people  had  come  from  the 
morning  service  the  whole  transaction  was  done — Lieb 
had  bought  the  property,  not  at  a  loss  to  himself,  as 
he  says,  and  Rummle  had  started  on  his  journey. 
Whither  he  has  gone  no  one  knows." 

"  What  does  one  not  hear! "  said  Mella,  shaking  his 
head  as  much  as  his  stiff  neck  would  allow  him.  "  And 
now,  perhaps,  Rophel  will  marry  Blumah." 

"My  trouble,"  commented  Uscher,  implying  it  was 
not  his  trouble,  and  that  he  had  other  things  to  con 
cern  him. 

And,  indeed,  all  day  he  was  busy  nursing  his  com 
rade,  poulticing  him,  applying  fomentations,  and  at 
tending  to  his  every  little  want,  the  same  as  a  mother 
to  her  sick  child.  When  the  evening  came,  Mella 
grew  restless. 

"  Are  you  in  pain  ?  "  queried  Uscher. 

"No,  but  I  think  you  should  go  out  and  see  what 
you  can  do  for  the  earning  of  a  few  copecks.  I  don't 
speak  for  my  own  interest.  Remember,  I  am  sick,  and 


106  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

my  appetite  is  not  over  great,  but  hunger  will  press 
heavily  on  you  who  have  a  healthy  stomach." 

"  What,  go  out  and  leave  you  alone  with  your  sick 
ness  ?  "  cried  Uscher,  indignantly.  "  If  I  should  hun 
ger,  all  the  more  necessity  is  there  for  me  to  make  you 
well  as  quickly  as  possible,  so  that  we  may  both  go 
speedily  about  our  business." 

Mella  did  not  insist,  only  when  Uscher  brought  him 
the  hot  gruel,  he  caught  his  hand  and  pressed  it  tightly, 
and  looked  at  him  with  tear-glittering  eyes. 

However,  despite  Useher's  ministrations,  Mella's  ill 
ness  dragged  for  over  a  week,  and  then  his  convales 
cence  required  almost  another  week  for  itself.  On  the 
first  day  he  could  sally  forth  he  received  a  surprise  in 
the  shape  of  a  letter  from  his  brother,  the  precentor  and 
licensed  slaughterer  of  Skulm,  the  first  one  since  that 
which  had  given  him  the  suggestion  of  becoming  a 
great  moralist. 

"  To  my  dear  loved  brother,  the  sight  of  whom  may 
God  grant  me  as  a  balsam  for  my  soul,"  Mella  read 
aloud  for  the  benefit  of  Uscher,  who  looked  inquisitive. 

"  Though  it  be  only  after  the  passing  of  much  time 
that  my  hand  is  stretched  forth  to  give  thee  tidings, 
verily  in  my  heart  thou  art  not  forgotten.  These,  then, 
are  the  things  I  have  to  tell  of. 

"  In  the  matter  of  children  I  have  no  further  increase 
to  report.  The  two  eldest  are  wedded  happily,  and 
the  others  are  growing  up  as  cedars  on  Mount  Lebanon, 
gladdening  my  eyes  with  their  goodliness.  Also  in  the 
matter  of  my  livelihood  I  have — praised  be  the  Name — 
tidings  of  a  joyful  nature;  and  the  improvement  thereof 
is  due  to  the  same  cause  to  which  was  due  the  falling- 


MUMMER  AND  MORALIST  107 

off.  And  the  wonder  of  the  whole  thing  is  so  strong 
upon  me  that  I  must  needs  relate  to  thee  the  matter  in 
all  detail.  Perhaps  it  still  dwells  in  thy  memory  what 
I  wrote  to  thee  in  my  last  epistle  concerning  one  named 
Peretz  Wedel,  the  same  who  was  Overseer  of  the  Krup- 
ka,  with  regard  to  the  casting  off  of  his  wife.  As  for 
the  woman,  she  herself  is  virtuous  and  God-fearing,  a 
pearl  among  the  matrons  of  Israel.  And  all  during 
her  husband's  absence  she  uttered  no  word  of  reproach, 
but  spent  her  time  in  fasting  and  praying  that  God 
might  make  him  of  a  better  mind,  nor  did  she  teach 
her  children  to  curse  the  name  of  their  father,  as  might 
well  betide  under  the  circumstances.  And  who  shall 
say  that  the  Lord  of  the  Universe  does  not  hearken  to 
the  voice  of  His  righteous  ones?  For  listen  what  mir 
acle  was  effected  on  her  behalf. 

"A  week  ago,  or  a  little  more,  I  happened  to  be 
seated  in  my  slaughter-box,  sharpening  my  knives,  as 
usual  when  there  is  nothing  to  do;  and  suddenly,  from 
the  other  side  of  the  wall,  where  is  the  apartment 
wherein  the  woman  dwells  with  her  children — one 
single  room,  whereas  before  she  had  inhabited  the 
whole  house — suddenly,  as  I  said,  I  heard  a  shriek,  so 
loud  that  my  hand  swerved,  and  a  serious  blemish  was 
caused  to  the  knife,  which  it  cost  me  an  hour's  labor  to 
remove.  And  subsequently  upon  the  shriek  I  heard  a 
man's  voice  speak,  and  my  soul  shook  within  me, 
for  I  recognized  it  as  the  voice  of  Peretz  Wedel,  the 
runaway  husband,  and  the  words  he  was  saying  were 
these : — 

" e  Channa,  I  was  within  a  hair's  breadth  of  commit 
ting  a  great  sin,  which  would  make  me  accursed  in  the 


108  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

world  to  come,  but  God  had  mercy  on  me,  and  in  a 
good  hour  sent  me  a  sign  from  Heaven.  Therefore 
have  I  come  back  to  thee,  and  if  thy  heart  is  not  poi 
soned  against  me  by  my  cruelty  to  thee  and  my  little 
children,  take  me  back,  and  let  all  be  forgotten/ 

"And  then  there  was  a  sound  of  sobbing,  inter 
spersed  with  such  detonations  as  are  caused  when  two 
kiss  each  other  on  the  mouth  violently. 

"But  this  is  not  all;  for,  from  certain  indications,  I 
have  ascertained  that  during  his  absence  Peretz  abided 
in  the  town  of  Borstchick,  which  is  the  self-same  town 
where  thou  art  a  house-master,  respected  and  beloved 
by  all,  as  thou  sayest,  for  which  God  be  thanked.  And 
to  recall  him  to  thy  mind,  if  his  name  be  not  familiar 
to  thee,  I  shall  give  thee  certain  marks  of  his  appear 
ance.  He  is  of  great  girth  about  the  waist,  and  on  his 
forehead  is  a  wart,  not  so  large  as  the  horn  which  God 
caused  to  appear  on  the  forehead  of  Queen  Vashti  when 
she  was  summoned  into  the  presence  of  King  Achash- 
verush,  but  certainly  of  considerable  size.  And  over 
his  left  eye  there  is  no  hair-covering,  for  the  brow  was 
singed  away  when  he  was  quite  a  boy " 

Mella  paused  suddenly,  and  looked  at  Uscher,  who 
returned  his  glance  dispassionately. 

"Don't  you  see,  Uscher?"  he  cried  excitedly. 

"See  what?" 

"Whom  he  means — the  hairless  eyebrow,  the  wart 
on  the  forehead — don't  you  see  who  it  is?" 

"Then  speak,  in  God's  name — who  is  it?"  cried 
Uscher,  catching  the  excitement. 

"Why,  none  other  than  Eummle  Klinker;  has  he 
not  a  wart  on ?  " 


MUMMEE  AND  MOEALIST  109 

"  Cry  shame  on  my  stupidity/'  gasped  Uscher,  throw 
ing  up  his  hands.  "I  have  a  pumpkin  on  me  for  a 
head — of  course,  it  is  he,  and " 

"And  the  sign  from  Heaven  is  the  piece  we  acted, 
giving  the  exact  words  of  his  disownment,  such  as  my 
brother  transcribed  them  to  me  faithfully/7  shrieked 
Mella. 

The  pair  stood  gaping  at  each  other  in  dumbfounded 
wonder.  At  last  Mella  opened  his  mouth,  and  shouted 
triumphantly: 

"  Ah!  I  knew  it — the  moral,  the  beautiful  moral;  has 
it  not  come  home?  Have  we  not  done  more  than  what 
ten  Maggidim,  preaching  ten  days,  with  tongues  ten 
yards  long,  could  have  effected?  " 

"Yes,  and  we  have  received  as  much  pay,"  sneered 
Uscher.  "  Are  you  not  an  ass,  Mella?  The  only  one 
who  has  been  benefited  is  Eummle's  wife — go  and  get 
your  payment  from  her." 

"  It  is  enough  for  me  to  have  been  made  the  instru 
ment  of  Providence,"  said  Mella,  piously. 

"The  instrument  of  Providence!"  echoed  Uscher, 
hotly.  "  Say,  rather,  you  have  meddled  with  Provi 
dence  that  intended  you  for  nothing  but  a  poyatz,  and 
certainly  not  for  a  moralist.  And,  therefore,  have  you 
been  punished;  for  if  you  had  kept  to  your  proper  trade, 
what  would  have  happened?  In  the  first  place,  there 
would  have  been  no  disturbance  at  Benjamin's  house  at 
the  party,  we  should  not  have  frightened  Eummle  away, 
and  we  should  have  been  handsomely  rewarded  by  him, 
not  only  at  the  Tnoyim,  but  also  at  the  marriage  feast, 
which  was  to  have  followed  shortly.  And,  further,  you 
could  have  made  an  orderly  exit  from  the  house,  duly 


110  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

protected  against  the  night  air,  and  then  you  would  not 
have  fallen  ill,  and  all  the  money  we  might  have  earned 
during  the  festival  would  not  have  been  lost.  And 
now,"  he  flapped  his  arms  violently  to  beat  down  the 
protest  he  saw  rising  to  Mella's  lips,  "and  now  what 
have  you  got?  Nothing — nay,  you  are  poorer  by  the 
two  copecks  which  you  have  vowed  to  the  charity  box, 
if  Rophel  should  marry  Blumah;  and  that  he  is  going  to 
marry  her  I  have  on  good  authority.  You  see,  the 
blessing  of  God  was  not  upon  your  doings.  It  is  willed 
we  should  eat  our  bread  in  humiliation." 

Mella  stood  annihilated.  "  If  it  is  indeed  God's  will 
that  I  should  be  a  poyatz  all  my  lifetime,  well,  then,  in 
God's  name  let  it  be;  but " 

A  knock  at  the  door  cut  him  short.  It  was  the  post 
man,  who  left  a  packet  addressed  to  the  two  of  them. 

"Look,  Uscher,  it  is  franked  and  registered,"  cried 
Mella.  "  What  does  it  contain  ?  " 

"  Open  and  see,  you  besom-stock,"  answered  Uscher, 
out  of  all  patience.  With  trembling  fingers,  Mella 
broke  the  seals,  and  took  out  the  contents — brand  new 
rouble  notes,  dozens  of  them;  five  hundred  roubles  in 
all.  Right  at  the  bottom  lay  a  scrap  of  paper  with  a 
few  words  scrawled  on  it,  and  when  Mella  had  blinked 
the  tears  of  joy  and  terror  out  of  his  eyes,  he  read : 

"  A  token  of  gratitude  from  one  whom,  by  a  patent 
miracle  of  God,  you  saved  from  a  great  transgression." 

"  Say,  Uscher,"  asked  Mella,  when  he  could  feel  his 
words  come  less  flutteringly,  "do  you  still  think  it  is 
God's  will  we  should  be  nothing  but  poyatzes — laugh- 
makers?  " 


THE  FOURTH  DIMENSION 

"  THIS  day  I  am  become  a  happy  man  in  Israel — blessed 
be  the  name  of  the  Lord!"  rose  Tarphon's  jubilant 
cry.  The  proof  of  his  gladness  lay  in  his  face;  but 
the  cause  of  it  lay  in  his  arms — a  huddled-up,  swaddle- 
clothed  heap  of  two-hour-old  humanity.  "  It  is  a  boy — 
that  was  bravely  done  of  thee,  Mirzah;  now  we  shall 
have  some  one  to  say  the  Sanctification  over  us  when 
we  are  dead." 

"  What  ails  thee,  Tarphon  ?  "  said  Mirzah,  looking 
reproach  with  her  big  wan  eyes,  for  she  had  not 
strength  enough  to  lay  it  into  her  voice.  "  In  the  hour 
that  new  life  is  given  us,  to  take  the  name  of  death  into 
thy  mouth?  Thou  knowest  not  what  thou  sayest  in 
thy  transport.  Give  me  back  the  child  before  thou 
swallowest  it  with  thine  eyes." 

"  There,  selfish  one  that  thou  art ! "  was  the  good- 
humored  reply.  "May  I  not  hold  him  and  touch 
him  for  a  little  while  ?  Thou  grudgest  me  the  joy  of 
fatherhood,  perhaps,  and  yet  it  is  the  first  time  in  the 
ten  years  of  our  wedlock  that  I  have  tasted  it." 

"  Tarphon ! "  and  the  gathering  tears  in  the  big 
wan  eyes  said  the  rest. 

"Foolish  one,  I  was  but  jesting."  And  Tarphon 
stroked  the  limp  hand  that  was  stretched  out  to  meet 
his.  "I  am  very  well  satisfied  with  thee;  he  shall  be 
a  great  scholar,  and  his  fame  shall  ring  through  the 
world — that  pleases  thee,  see,  thou  smilest — and  no 


112  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

less  than  two  bullocks  and  ten  sheep  shall  be  eaten 
at  his  marriage  feast.  To  be  sure,  I  know  not  what 
I  am  saying — I  shall  go  forth  and  tell  the  news  in  the 
town  and  in  the  houses  of  our  friends  and  kinsfolk. 
Nay,  let  me  look  at  him  again — I  shall  not  do  him 
mischief." 

No  wonder  that  Tarphon  was  a  little  delirious.  He 
was  a  man  who  had  been  blessed  with  chattels  of 
many  sorts ;  he  owned  man-servants  and  maid-servants, 
and  his  flocks  cropped  his  own  pastures  for  many  an 
acre  round.  And  now  God  had  set  this  coping-stone 
upon  his  fortunes,  and  Tarphon  was  but  human,  and 
might  be  excused  for  not  eying  the  event  with  stoic 
indifference.  His  excitement  kept  him  on  his  legs 
till  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  when  he  came  home 
he  was  very  tired.  "Not  with  the  walking/'  he  ex 
plained  to  Mirzah,  "  but  with  the  load  of  good  wishes 
I  have  brought  for  all  the  three  of  us."  And  then 
he  sat  down  at  the  bedside,  and  thought  for  a  long 
time. 

"  What  sayest  thou,  Mirzah  ?  I  hold  it  is  but  right 
I  should  make  some  offering  to  the  congregation,  so 
that  the  birth  of  Tarphon's  son  may  be  remembered 
for  many  ages  to  come." 

"  When  I  am  recovered,  I  and  my  sisters  shall  em 
broider  a  covering-cloth  for  the  Reader's  pulpit,"  sug 
gested  Mirzah. 

"  It  will  get  worn  out  in  a  few  years,"  objected 
Tarphon,  "  and  the  gift  is  not  one  of  sufficient  value." 

"  Then  let  it  be  a  golden  wine-beaker." 

"  That  might  get  stolen.  Nay,  do  not  prompt  me ; 
I  have  the  gift  in  my  mind.  I  have  heard  much  talk 


THE  FOUETH  DIMENSION  113 

to-day  that  Benish,  the  great  scribe  of  Gostoneen,  has 
finished  the  Scroll  of  the  Law  which  he  affirms  to  be 
the  best  handiwork  of  his  lifetime,  and  he  asks  for  it 
a  large  sum — I  know  not  how  much;  but  the  harvest 
has  been  plentiful  this  year,  and  there  has  been  no 
foot-rot  among  the  sheep.  I  shall  give  what  he  asks 
— I  shall  not  miss  it." 

So  then,  as  proposed,  Tarphon  went  to  negotiate 
with  Benish  on  the  following  morning;  and  when  he 
entered,  the  expert  was  sitting  in  his  scriptorium 
busily  examining  old  parchments  that  needed  repair. 

"  I  have  come  about  the  scroll  that  I  have  heard  say 
is  the  wonder  of  the  world,"  began  Tarphon. 

"It  is  disposed  of,  or  nearly  so,"  answered  Benish, 
"  for  the  congregation  of  Wilna  has  offered  me  eleven 
hundred  and  fifty  roubles  for  it." 

"  I  will  give  you  twelve  hundred,"  said  Tarphon. 

"  There  is  only  one  man  can  do  that,  and  that  is 
Tarphon  of  Stchelno." 

"I  am  Tarphon,  and  yesterday  a  son  was  born  to 
me;  and  I  would  present  the  scroll  to  the  congregation 
in  memory  of  it." 

"  The  gift  is  worthy  of  the  man  and  the  occasion," 
said  Benish;  "you  shall  buy  it.  And  now  come  and 
let  me  show  it  you." 

And  then  from  the  inmost  receptacle  of  his  storing- 
place  came  forth  the  precious  manuscript.  It  was  of 
medium  size  and  compact,  nor  yet  so  unwieldily  bulky 
as  many  of  the  scrolls  that  weary  the  arms  of  the 
holders  when  they  are  carried  about  in  procession  on 
the  Day  of  Eejoicing  in  the  Law.  And  Benish's  eyes 
glowed  as  he  commented  on  its  excellences. 


114  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Ten  years  I  have  worked  at  it,  and  now  every 
flourish  is  in  its  place,  and  the  spacings  and  margins 
between  the  portions  are  measured  to  a  hair.  Look 
at  the  handles — solid  ebony  from  the  land  of  Kush, 
and  the  silk  coverings  at  the  back  are  such  as  the 
Indias  cannot  outvie." 

And  then  he  showed  Tarphon  the  accoutrement 
and  the  accessories  that  belonged  to  the  scroll;  how 
the  breastplate  of  solid  silver  was  worked  into  the 
effigy  of  King  Solomon's  temple,  with  the  peristyles 
and  vestibules  daintily  fretted  out  from  the  bulk. 
And  the  large  head-bells  were  of  the  shapes  of  crowns, 
and  the  clappers  inside  gave  out  a  sound  like  cymbals. 
As  for  the  pointer,  the  upper  part  was  in  form  of  a 
palm  branch  tapering  off  into  a  delicately  chiselled 
hand. 

"And  all  these  things  were  fashioned  by  my  son, 
the  silversmith,"  added  Benish,  proudly.  "  I  tell  you, 
no  finer  scroll  exists — unless  it  be  the  one  from  which 
the  patriarchs  read  the  Sabbath-portion  in  the  Garden 
of  Eden;  and  it  is  yours  at  the  twelve  hundred  and 
fifty  roubles  you  named." 

Tarphon  stood  gazing  with  open  mouth  at  the  splen 
dors  before  him,  and  he  had  not  the  heart  to  haggle 
about  the  extra  fifty  wherewith  Benish  had  saddled 
him;  the  man  deserved  his  price. 

And  when  Tarphon  came  home,  he  told  his  wife: 
"  I  have  beheld  what  no  human  eyes  have  seen ;  it  was 
like  drinking  in  the  veritable  glory  of  God." 

"  Nay,  talk  not  so  big,"  broke  in  Mirzah.  "  I,  too, 
have  been  feasting  mine  eyes  upon  the  shadow  of  the 
shadow  thereof.  But  be  still— he  sleeps." 


THE  FOURTH  DIMENSION  115 

"  The  child — our  child !  "  breathed  Tarphon ;  and 
then  he  went  on  in  a  whisper,  "  What  sayest  thou  to 
this,  Mirzah:  was  it  not  at  the  hour  of  eight  that  he 
first  drew  breath?  And  Benish  told  me  that  was  the 
instant  when  he  put  the  last  stroke  to  the  writing  of 
the  scroll,  having  worked  at  it  through  the  night  into 
the  morning;  and  so  it  might  be  said  that  they  were 
born  in  the  same  winking  of  the  eye.  Is  it  not 
strange  ?  " 

"  Strange  ?  "  said  Mirzah.  "  Oh,  thou  niggard  of 
faith!  Is  not  God  rich  enough  to  dower  the  world 
with  two  blessings  by  one  outstretching  of  the  hand? 
Call  it  not  strange;  say  rather  it  is  a  happy  omen  and 
foreshadowing  that  good  fortune  shall  be  his,  having 
chanced  upon  such  a  coeval." 

Then  Tarphon  stooped  over  the  child,  and,  kissing 
it,  he  whispered,  "Dear  as  is  to  the  Almighty  His 
Law,  so  be  thou,  His  creature/' 

But  there  were  many  things  that  demanded  atten 
tion,  and  Tarphon  had  his  hands  full  for  the  next  five 
days  that  elapsed  before  the  child  might  be  initiated 
into  the  Covenant  of  Abraham.  And  the  memory  of 
that  initiation-feast  is  still  current  through  the 
country,  for  from  the  mere  remains  of  it  full  two 
weddings  might  have  been  furnished  forth.  And  for 
the  occasion  there  had  come  all  the  men  of  considera 
tion  and  importance  in  the  neighborhood;  notably 
Rabbi  Eliezar,  the  renowned  Cabbalist,  who,  it  was  said, 
had  once  caught  an  angel  by  the  foot,  and  would 
not  let  him  go  until  he  had  been  promised  a  foremost 
place  in  the  World-to-come.  Now  he  was  blind  and 
palsy-stricken,  and  it  was  only  a  man  of  Tarphon's 


116  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

standing  who  might  make  bold  to  ask  his  company. 
And  in  the  evening  of  the  feast  they  brought  the  child, 
which  had  been  named  Ephraim,  and  laid  it  on  the 
table  before  Rabbi  Eliezar  that  he  might  give  it  his 
blessing;  and  he  alone  of  all  had  been  told  of  the  won 
drous  coincidence  that  marked  the  finishing  of  the 
scroll  and  the  birth  of  the  child.  And  he  laid  his 
shrunken  hand  on  little  Ephraim's  head,  and,  lifting 
his  sightless  eyes  to  heaven,  he  blessed  him.  Now,  the 
old  man  was  toothless,  and  his  utterance  was  vague  and 
confused;  but  those  who  sat  near  him  thought  that 
these  were  the  words  he  spoke : 

"  As  ye  are  both  cast  within  one  nativity,  so  may 
its  soul  be  also  thy  soul,  and  than  the  soul  of  the 
Word  of  God  there  is  no  thing  purer  and  wholesomer 
on  earth.  But  the  Eternal  breathed  into  the  limitless 
vast,  and  they  became,  and  were,  the  four  things  that 
are  His  dimensions.  And  as  thou  shalt  abide  by  the 
blessings  of  the  twin-soul  that  is  thine,  so  shalt  thou 
abide  by  whatever  else  may  betide  it;  and  as  one  shall 
be,  so  shall  be  the  other.  And  if  the  twin-soul  pass 
all  the  trials  thereof,  then  shall  it  live  appointed  days." 

And  all  who  heard  wondered  what  the  blessing 
meant;  but  there  was  no  one  to  give  an  explanation — 
not  even  Rabbi  Eliezar,  for  he  died  on  the  way  home 
from  the  feast  of  the  Covenant. 

The  day  following  Ephraim's  initiation  was  fixed 
for  the  Dedication  of  the  Scroll;  and  in  honor  of  this 
a  general  holiday  prevailed  through  the  town.  Tar- 
phon  himself  carried  the  scroll  from  his  house  to  the 
synagogue  in  procession  with  the  wardens  and  good- 
men  of  the  congregation.  The  House  of  Prayer  was 


THE  FOURTH  DIMENSION 


packed  every  inch,  and  from  the  galleries  the  women 
threw  down  cakes  and  sweetmeats,  and  there  was  great 
merriment  and  amicable  strife  in  the  catching  of  the 
dainties.  But  Tarphon's  munificence  was  not  yet  at 
an  end.  In  the  opening  paragraphs  of  Genesis,  where 
the  letters  were  only  outlined,  he  chose  the  characters 
that  made  up  the  name  of  his  son,  "  Ephraim  ben 
Tarphon,"  to  be  filled  in  with  ink;  and  the  same  he 
did  with  the  last  sentences  of  Deuteronomy,  which 
had  been  left  blank  likewise.  And  for  every  letter 
he  paid  five  roubles,  all  which  went  to  the  community 
to  be  given  in  charity  to  those  that  needed.  Nor  yet 
were  the  festivities  done  with,  for  on  the  thirtieth 
day  from  the  birth  took  place  Ephraim's  redemption. 
And  this  means  that  he  was  repurchased  from  the 
priesls  of  the  town;  for,  being  a  "first-born,"  he  was, 
according  to  the  Law,  the  due  and  tithe  of  the 
Cohanim,  the  descendants  of  Aaron.  And  Tarphon 
paid  to  every  priest  who  asked  for  it  the  sum  of  ninety 
copecks,  and  again  there  was  a  plentiful  feast  pro 
vided.  Occasionally  Tarphon  reflected  on  the  strange 
blessing  Rabbi  Eliezar  had  uttered  over  Ephraim,  but, 
though  he  knew  a  little  more  of  the  case,  he  saw  there 
in  no  clearer  significance  than  did  the  others;  but  it 
seemed  to  imply  that  an  extraordinary  destiny  hung 
over  his  son  that  might  turn  to  good  or  ill.  Yet  from 
the  first  Ephraim  proved  a  source  of  joy.  At  the  age 
of  two  he  could  say  the  alphabet  from  Aleph  to  Tov, 
and  from  Tov  back  to  Aleph;  and  at  three  he  boldly 
tackled  the  sesquipedalian  monsters  that  are  to  be 
found  in  the  "  Sayings  of  the  Fathers." 

About  this  time  Ephraim's  career,  which  augured 


118  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

so  well,  almost  came  to  an  abrupt  ending,  and  the 
thing  was  due  to  the  carelessness  of  some  one.  For 
Mirzah  had  occasion  to  go  upon  some  household  errand, 
and  had  left  the  boy  sleeping  upon  the  couch,  for  the 
servants  were  about,  and  she  knew  he  was  safe.  Now 
as  to  demons,  burglars,  and  ravenous  beasts  he  was 
certainly  safe,  for  there  were  none  in  the  neighbor 
hood.  But  in  the  very  room  where  he  slept  there 
stood  a  monster  made  of  glazed  bricks  that  reached 
to  the  ceiling,  and  its  inners  were  filled  with  burning 
embers.  Now,  this  monster-oven  found  that  the  flue 
through  which  it  was  wont  to  respire  had  become 
choked  up,  and  the  fumes  which  were  to  escape  into 
the  open  were  forced  back  into  the  cavity;  and  to  ob 
tain  relief  from  the  overcharge,  the  oven  began  to 
belch  forth  the  noisome  exhalations  into  the  chamber, 
so  that  all  the  pure  air  became  forced  out  through 
the  crevices.  And  with  the  pain  of  the  oppression, 
Ephraim  awoke  and  started  to  scream  with  all  the 
strength  that  yet  remained  in  his  poor  tormented 
chest;  and  at  that  moment  Mirzah  rushed  in,  and 
snatched  him  out  of  his  peril  just  two  heart-beats 
before  it  was  too  late.  All  the  week  he  was  sick  and 
giddy,  so  that  he  was  prevented  from  going  to  syna 
gogue  on  the  Sabbath  with  his  father.  And  that  was 
a  sore  disappointment  to  the  little  fellow.  For  he  was 
now  entrusted  with  the  rolling-up  of  the  swathe  that 
served  as  a  girdle  for  his  scroll;  and  he  was  never 
happier  than  when  at  this  task,  although  the  stiff 
silken  border  proved  a  difficult  matter  for  his  little 
fingers.  And  that  Sabbath  there  happened  a  strange 
thing  in  the  synagogue.  For  while  Naphtali,  the 


THE  FOURTH  DIMENSION  119 

master  of  the  Cantillation,  was  reciting  the  weekly 
portion  of  the  Law,  he  was  seen  suddenly  to  stop,  and 
take  off  his  spectacles;  and  then  he  rubbed  his  eyes 
and  looked  again.  But  though  he  rubbed  spots  out 
of  his  eyes,  he  could  not  rub  the  mistake  from  the  page ; 
for,  to  be  sure,  the  word  for  "  breath,"  which  ought 
to  have  been  in  the  passage  he  had  come  up  to,  was 
missing  from  its  place,  and  the  sentence  ran  on  muti 
lated  and  incoherent.  And  the  wonder  was  how  the 
deficiency  had  escaped  notice  so  long,  though  at  each 
reading  the  page  had  been  closely  scanned  by  three 
pairs  of  eyes — namely,  those  of  Naphtali,  who  read, 
of  the  person  who  was  called  up  to  pronounce  the 
blessing  over  the  section,  and  of  Tarphon,  who  stood 
pointing.  The  next  day  Benish  was  summoned,  and 
great  was  his  consternation  at  the  mishap. 

"I  don't  know  how  this  came  about,"  he  said  in 
justification.  "  Every  line  I  went  over  diligently  after 
I  had  written  it,  and  not  even  the  tail  of  a  Yod  but 
was  marked  with  unerring  accuracy — but  of  this  I  can 
make  nothing." 

And  then  with  dubious  shakings  of  head  he  cor 
rected  the  omission,  and  every  one  admired  the  skill 
wherewith  he  superliterated  the  erasure  so1  that  no 
trace  of  the  tinkering  remained.  Tarphon  was  greatly 
grieved  at  the  occurrence,  for  it  jeopardized  the  repu 
tation  of  the  scroll.  Still  his  grief  was  more  than 
counterbalanced  by  the  joy  of  Ephraim's  speedy 
recovery. 

And  as  time  went  on,  Ephraim  continued  to  make 
progress,  so  that  at  the  age  of  seven  he  had  already 
advanced  to  the  study  of  Rashi  and  Onkelos  and  the 


120  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

commentators,  and  harassed  his  teachers  with  perplex 
ing  questions. 

"  Tell  me/'  he  once  asked  them,  "  if  it  happen  that 
a  man  has  searched  every  nook  and  corner  of  his  abode 
upon  the  eve  preceding  the  Passover,  and  has  gathered 
all  the  crumbs  and  particles  of  leaven,  so  that  nothing 
is  left;  but  if  during  the  festival  a  mouse  should 
bring  in  from  the  adjoining  dwelling,  which  is  a  Gen 
tile's,  a  crust  of  bread  and  deposit  it  secretly  in  the 
Jewish  house,  is  the  owner  thereof  liable  to  the  punish 
ment  of  him  who  neglects  the  ordinance :  '  Seven  days 
there  shall  be  no  leaven  found  in  your  houses'?" 
And  this,  you  must  admit,  is  not  a  question  which  can 
be  answered  standing  on  one  leg;  and  it  was  whispered 
that  before  every  lesson  his  teachers  held  a  conclave 
to  be  prepared  with  satisfactory  answers  to  the  pre 
cocious  questioner.  And  Tarphon  held  his  head  high 
among  the  fathers  of  the  congregation. 

But  little  Ephraim  was  no  mere  bookworm;  he 
romped  about  with  the  other  children,  and  excelled  in 
their  games.  And  thus  it  happened  that  a  serious 
accident  befell  him.  For,  one  day,  while  playing  at 
hare  and  hounds,  he  was  chosen  the  hare;  and  seeing 
that  one  of  his  playmates  had  nearly  come  up  to  him, 
he  looked  about  for  a  place  of  refuge  or  vantage.  Now, 
in  the  corner  of  the  courtyard  where  he  had  taken  his 
flight,  there  stood  a  large  four- walled  tank,  rising  to 
the  height  of  three  feet  from  the  ground,  which  con 
tained,  as  Ephraim  thought  in  his  perilous  haste,  dry 
fodder  for  the  cattle;  and  if  he  could  but  attain  that 
he  was  safe,  for  from  there  he  could  clamber  over  into 
the  next  courtyard,  and  his  pursuer  could  not  equal 


THE  FOURTH  DIMENSION  121 

him  in  leaping.  And  at  last  he  reached  the  side,  and 
vaulting  over — splash — ! — down  he  went,  for  the  tank 
was  full  of  water,  and  sprinkled  only  at  the  top  with 
a  thin  layer  of  chaff;  and  once  he  sank,  and  twice,  and 
then  at  the  third  time  a  stableman  rushed  to  the  spot, 
and  barely  reached  him  at  the  end  of  a  pitchfork  that 
caught  in  Ephraim's  doublet.  And  so  he  was  borne 
home,  a  pitiable  sight,  his  limbs  stiff  and  his  eyes 
staring  wide;  for  the  water  he  had  swallowed  had 
almost  forced  the  life  from  his  body.  And  when 
Mirzah  saw  him  thus,  she  set  up  a  loud  wailing,  but 
Tarphon  only  turned  pale,  and  helped  her  quickly  to 
strip  him  and  put  him  into  warm  coverlets.  By  the 
Sabbath  Ephraim  had  somewhat  recovered,  though  he 
still  remained  a  little  ailing;  and  Tarphon  went  to 
synagogue  to  offer  up  thanksgiving  for  the  sparing  of 
his  child.  And  the  portion  of  the  week  was  the  cross 
ing  of  the  Red  Sea;  and  when  Naphtali  had  come  to 
the  passage  where  the  waters  parted,  Tarphon  suddenly 
clutched  hold  of  his  hand  and  bade  him  stop;  for 
Tarphon's  eyes  had  caught  an  error  so  glaring  that 
Naphtali  might  be  pardoned  for  passing  it  without 
notice  in  the  belief  that  his  senses  were  playing  him 
false.  For  the  word  "mayim,"  signifying  "  waters/' 
was  written  such  that  the  final  "  mem  "  bore  the  same 
shape  as  the  initial  "  mem  " ;  and  the  whole  congre 
gation  came  up,  one  by  one,  to  examine  the  monstrosity 
of  the  thing,  and  certain  remarks  concerning  Benish 
went  from  mouth  to  mouth  that  would  not  have 
pleased  him.  What  ?  Take  such  a  treasury  of  money 
for  work  which  a  cobbler's  boy  would  have  performed 
more  creditably?  Such  a  thing  had  not  been  heard 


122  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

of  ever  since  geese  grew  quills  to  make  pens  for 
scribes.  And  when  Benish  was  called  to  see  with  his 
own  eyes,  he  stood  tapping  his  forehead  for  a  long 
time. 

"  Nay,  my  masters,"  he  said  at  last,  "  this  is  not  my 
handiwork.  I  am  not  a  son  of  the  soil,  and  I  did  not 
write  this  scroll  in  my  sleep;  but  there  is  a  mystery 
in  this,  I  swear  that  upon  the  scroll.  There  is  an 
evil  spirit  lurking  in  the  place;  perhaps  the  man 
who  blew  the  ram's  horn  on  the  First  Day  of  the  Year 
was  unworthy  of  his  office  or  incapable  thereof,  for  he 
did  not  frighten  the  Satan  away  by  the  .strength  and 
excellence  of  his  blowing,  and  that  is  the  cause  of  this 
mischief."  Many  there  were  who  believed  the  expla 
nation,  and  many  there  were  who  did  not;  and  of  the 
latter  the  most  incredulous  was  Naphtali,  for  he  him 
self  was  the  man  who  had  blown  the  ram's  horn.  And 
then  Benish  made  the  correction,  and  went  away;  and 
when  Tarphon  came  home  he  found  Ephraim  eating 
chicken-broth,  and  the  flush  of  health  had  come  back 
to  his  cheeks. 

Ephraim  continued  to  make  good  headway  in  all 
things.  At  the  age  of  ten  he  began  to  keep  all  the 
fast-days,  observing  even  the  "  Fast  of  the  First-born  " 
until  the  time  of  sunset;  and  he  missed  not  a  single 
service  either  in  the  early  morning  or  in  the  evening 
of  each  day,  and  when  his  father  was  kept  away  by 
business,  he  went  by  himself.  And  in  all  things  relat 
ing  to  his  religion  he  was  most  circumspect,  and  if 
the  white  of  an  egg  showed  but  a  tiny  speck  of  blood 
he  would  not  eat  it,  even  though  another  were  not 
immediately  available.  And  yet  for  all  this  he  did 


THE  FOURTH  DIMENSION  123 

not  seem  to  be  spared  trial  and  calamity.  It  was  at  the 
time  of  counting  the  Omer,  the  seven  weeks  that  elapse 
between  Passover  and  Pentecost,  when  Ephraim  had 
reached  the  age  of  eleven,  that  he  went  with  the 
other  children  of  the  town  to  the  river's  bank,  there 
to  gather  the  youngling  bulrushes,  which  it  is  cus 
tomary  at  this  season  of  the  year  to  strew  across  the 
floor,  so  that  a  pleasant  savor  might  rise  up  from  the 
sap.  And  Ephraim,  in  his  eagerness  to  pluck  only 
of  the  best,  had  strayed  from  his  comrades,  and  did 
not  notice  how  the  soil  was  getting  more  and  more 
porous,  and  squelched  beneath  his  footsteps.  And 
suddenly  it  slipped  away  from  him  altogether,  and 
there  he  was  up  to  his  waist  in  the  slimy  ooze;  and, 
more  by  instinct  than  premeditation,  he  flung  his  arms 
aloft,  and  grasped  at  the  branches  of  the  willow-tree 
that  overhung  his  head,  and  that  saved  him.  But  it 
seemed  to  him  that  for  the  moment  his  arm  must 
have  lengthened  to  three  times  its  usual  measure,  even 
as  the  arm  of  Pharaoh's  daughter  lengthened  so  that 
she  might  pull  Moses  from  the  water;  for  Ephraim 
could  not  understand  how  else  he  had  reached  the 
supports  to  which  he  clung.  And  there  he  might  have 
remained  during  the  night,  had  it  not  been  for  the  poor 
washerwoman  who  plied  her  task  a  little  further  up; 
and  when  she  had  helped  him  out,  Ephraim  enjoined 
her,  giving  her  all  his  stock  of  savings,  not  to  speak 
of  his  misadventure.  And  then  he  went  home,  very 
frightened,  and  changed  his  clothes  before  his  parents 
might  ask  questions  as  to  their  condition.  But  what 
washerwoman  ever  recognized  that  she  had  a  tongue  to 
keep  secrets  with?  And  the  tale  of  his  son's  escape 


124  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

soon  reached  Tarphon's  ears,  and  at  the  news  a  thought 
flashed  across  his  mind,  undefined  and  vague,  and  he 
tried  to  connect  its  trail  by  dim  links  of  memory  with 
something  else  equally  vague  and  undefined;  but  the 
more  he  followed  it,  the  more  subtly  it  escaped  him. 
And  again  he  renewed  the  attempt,  when  it  came  about 
during  the  next  reading  of  the  L'aw,  which  took  place 
on  the  second  Sabbath  of  the  Omer,  that  there  was 
yet  another  alteration  necessary  in  the  scroll.  For 
in  the  passage  where  it  speaks  of  the  houses  of  the 
lepers  and  of  the  mortar  connected  therewith,  the 
word  for  mortar,  which  is  "  ongphar,"  and  properly 
signifies  "loam/'  or  earth,  was  slightly  shifted  from 
its  place,  so  that  it  stood  slantingly  below  the  level 
of  the  line.  Now  this  was  the  eleventh  time  in  eleven 
years  that  Tarphon  had  scanned  the  place,  and  never 
before  had  he  remarked  its  peculiarity;  and  he  knew 
it  was  of  no  use  to  send  for  Benish  to  account  for  the 
thing,  so  on  the  day  following  he  came,  and,  without  a 
word  to  any  one,  made  the  correction  himself.  But 
the  event  lay  deeply  in  his  mind,  and  he  did  not  forget 
it  for  many  a  day. 

At  last  came  the  time  when  Ephraim  was  to  become 
a  Son  of  the  Commandments,  and  Tarphon  determined 
that  the  occasion  should  be  celebrated  with  befitting 
splendor.  Of  course,  Ephraim  read  before  the  con 
gregation  the  whole  portion  of  the  week,  and,  in  addi 
tion,  the  chapter  from  the  Prophets  pertaining  thereto; 
and  that  was  a  feat  of  which  not  everybody's  son  could 
boast.  Not  only  that,  but  he  delivered  an  oration  of 
his  own  making,  showing  that  he  felt  the  responsibility 
of  becoming  a  full-fledged  member  of  the  congregation; 


THE  FOUKTH  DIMENSION  125 

and  the  whole  town  was  full  of  his  praises,  and  Tar- 
phon  was  vaunted,  indeed,  a  man  whose  works  turned 
out  well.  A  month  after,  Ephraim  was  to  proceed  to 
the  great  Talmud  School  of  Vilosen,  for  he  was  to 
qualify  for  a  Rabbi;  but  on  the  eve  of  his  departure 
he  complained  of  spots  before  his  eyes,  and  there  was 
a  slight  discoloration  about  his  temples,  which  became 
more  and  more  apparent.  This  was  his  first  serious 
illness,  and  Tarphon  went  betimes  to  change  the  boy's 
name,  so  that  if  it  had  been  ordained — was  not  God's 
wisdom  infinite? — that  the  Angel  of  Death  should  be 
deputed  to  lay  his  hand  on  him,  Azrael  might  come 
and  find  some  one  who  answered  not  to  the  name  of 
him  for  whom  he  had  been  sent  on  the  errand.  But 
despite  of  it  Ephraim  grew  worse;  a  fever  came  over 
him,  and  the  blood  coursed  seething-hot  through  his 
veins.  Tarphon  and  Mirzah  sat  and  looked  at  him, 
noting  every  breath  he  drew  and  every  tremor  of  his 
body.  And  when  Mirzah  had  fallen  asleep  with  the 
weariness  of  the  watching,  Tarphon  buried  his  head 
in  his  hands;  but  he  did  not  weep — there  was  no  time 
for  that.  He  was  busy  tracing  the  flimsy  thread  of 
memory  that  he  knew  lurked  somewhere  in  the  recesses 
of  his  mind.  And  all  at  once  a  quaint  phrase  leapt 
forth  therefrom,  and  he  grew  puzzled  where  he  had 
heard  it.  "  The  four  things  that  are  His  dimensions/' 
That  was  something  to  work  upon,  and  then  came  an 
other  recollection,  which  ran,  "If  the  twin-soul  pass 
all  the  trials  thereof,  then  shall  it  live  appointed  days." 
Were  not  those  the  words  which  Rabbi  Eliezar  had 
uttered  at  Ephraim's  initiation  into  the  Covenant? 
And  then  Tarphon  carefully  pieced  together  his  con- 


126  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

jectures.  In  the  week  that  Ephraim  had  nearly  suf 
fered  death  from  the  poisonous  vapors,  was  there  not 
missing  from  its  place  in  the  Scriptures  the  word 
"  ruach,"  signifying  the  air,  the  clean  breath  of  the 
nostrils  ?  And  then  again,  at  the  time  when  Ephraim 
was  nearly  drowned  in  the  cattle  tank,  was  not  the 
word  for  "  waters  "  found  to  he  ill-conditioned — the 
end  letter  the  same  as  the  beginning,  even  as  Ephraim 
had  thought  that  the  bottom  of  the  tank  was  of  like 
nature  to  the  top  ?  And  Tarphon  thought  tremblingly 
of  the  last  point:  when  Ephraim  had  gone  to  gather 
bulrushes,  was  there  not  an  untoward  dislocation  of 
the  word  that  means  "earth,"  even  as  the  ground 
had  moved  from  its  place  under  his  feet?  And  so 
Ephraim  had  run  the  gauntlet  of  air,  water,  and 
earth,  and  in  each  case  the  scroll  had  suffered  mishand 
ling  in  the  words  of  this  meaning.  And  now  it  was 
clear  to  Tarphon  that  the  "four  dimensions  of  God" 
were,  forsooth,  the  four  elements,  and  the  "  twin-soul " 
was  the  spirit  animating  both  his  child  and  the  scroll 
that  had  been  born  into  life  at  one  and  the  same 
moment.  And  what  further  proof  did  he  need  ?  Was 
not  the  boy  writhing  with  the  inflammation  of  his 
vitals?  Was  he  not  burning  as  with  a  fire?  That 
was  it — and  Tarphon  leapt  up  like  a  madman — 
there  was  some  word  signifying  fire,  flame,  or  burn 
ing  that  needed  correction  in  the  scroll,  and  if  that 
were  done,  the  danger  would  be  passed,  and  the 
elements  conquered,  and  his  boy  Ephraim  would  live 
long  days,  and  be  a  king  among  men.  And  so  Tarphon 
stormed  out  through  the  door — he  would  search  the 
scroll  from  beginning  to  end,  even  if  the  sight  of  his 


THE  FOUKTH  DIMENSION  127 

eyes  perished  over  it.  But  suddenly  he  stopped — it 
was  very  strange :  surely  the  sun  had  long  gone  down, 
and  it  was  too  early  for  the  dawn;  but  over  there  to 
the  west  was  a  reddish  glare  that  increased  as  he  went 
on,  and  round  the  corner  men  came  running,  breath 
lessly  shouting: 

"  Tarphon,  Tarphon,  the  synagogue  is  in  flames !  " 
And  Tarphon  dashed  on  with  wolf-like  eyes  and 
gnashing  teeth,  and  when  he  came  up  to  the  crowd 
that  stood  outside  the  burning  edifice,  he  clove  through 
it  as  a  thunderbolt  cleaves  through  ears  of  corn, 
shrieking :  "  The  scroll,  the  scroll ;  or  else  he  dies — he 
dies ! "  And  before  they  could  hold  him,  he  had 
rushed  into  the  naming  chaos  of  destruction,  torn  down 
the  aisle  to  the  Sacred  Ark,  which  spat  sheaves  of  fire 
at  him — and  lo,  there  was  the  scroll  blazing  like  touch 
wood.  But  what  of  that?  There  was  the  scroll — in 
cinders  or  not,  what  mattered  it  ?  And  out  again  he 
came,  like  a  demon  who  has  burst  his  chains,  from 
amid  the  holocaust  of  his  damnation.  And  on  and  on 
he  ran,  holding  the  charred  trophy  above  his  head — 
and  when  he  came  in,  they  had  just  finished  stretching 
the  linen  sheet  over  the  starkening  limbs,  and  were 
turning  the  looking-glasses  towards  the  wall. 

Two  days  afterwards  was  the  Fast  of  Ab,  the  anni 
versary  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem,  the  day 
whereon  are  carried  to  the  "  Good  Place  "  for  burial 
all  the  torn  leaflets  and  spoilt  synagogue  gear  whereon 
appears  the  name  of  God;  but  the  Scroll  of  Tarphon 
was  buried  in  one  and  the  same  coffin  with  his  son 
Ephraim.  Say,  are  not  these  things  wonderful? 


THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM 

WHENEVER  he  came  into  the  village  there  was  a  panic 
among  the  children.  "  Black  Anton  is  here,"  ran  the 
cry,  and  in  a  moment  the  streets  were  swept,  and  the 
romping,  vociferous  crew,  which  just  now  had  been 
scaring  back  the  twilight  shadows,  stampeded  breath 
lessly  to  shelter,  and  then  stood  peeping  out  through 
the  holes  in  the  shutters,  to  watch  the  apparition  go  by. 
This  was  the  third  generation  of  little  villagers  to 
whom  the  said  Black  Anton  had  acted  as  bogey,  and 
the  grandfathers  fell  into  fits  of  musing  as  he  passed, 
because  it  was  as  though  they  saw  the  memory  of  their 
youth  stalking  by  visibly,  and  the  world  seemed  hardly 
to  have  grown  older;  here  was  Black  Anton  still  coming 
month  by  month,  bringing  his  salves  and  ointments 
and  nostrums,  the  same  that  had  physicked  them 
through  their  infant  tribulations,  and  now  did  the 
same  office  for  their  children's  children.  Only  the 
epithet  to  his  name  was  an  anachronism,  because  his 
hair  and  beard,  jet  black  as  they  remembered  it,  was 
now  as  bleached  as  theirs. 

There  was  no  apparent  reason  for  the  fear  Black 
Anton  inspired;  it  was  merely  a  survival.  The  little 
folks  grew  out  of  it  as  they  grew  out  of  their  short 
frocks  and  knickerbockers;  and  then  they  got  so  busy 
fighting  the  real  terrors  of  life  that  they  had  no  time 
to  hark  back  to  those  of  their  childhood.  For  all  that, 
it  was  on  record  that  no  inhabitant  of  the  village, 


THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM  129 

unless  he  could  reach  the  Mezuzzah,*  if  only  by  stand 
ing  on  tiptoe,  had  ever  had  speech  with  Black  Anton, 
or  had  ventured  to  stand  within  ten  yards  of  him. 
But  that  was  before  the  coming  of  Abner,  who,  when 
his  parents  died,  was  sent  to  live  with  his  uncle  Baruch, 
the  rope-maker. 

"Did  you  have  a  bogey  in  your  village?"  was  the 
first  question  his  new  acquaintances  at  Turok  asked 
him. 

"  No,"  answered  Abner,  looking  puzzled. 

"  Well,  we  have,"  boasted  the  natives. 

The  boast  rankled  in  Abner's  mind ;  it  implied  a  slur 
on  the  completeness  of  the  organizations  in  his  birth 
place. 

"  Are  you  very  much  frightened  of  him  ?  "  he  asked, 
with  a  sudden  thought. 

"  Awfully,"  replied  the  natives  with  much  pride  and 
solemnity,  "  he  is  quite  terrible." 

"  What  does  he  do,  for  instance  ?  "  continued  Abner, 
sceptically. 

"  Ah,  well,  you  see,  he  makes  you  run  away." 

"Is  that  all?  Then  I  don't  believe  he  is  so  much 
of  a  bogey  as  you  think  him.  He  won't  make  me  run 
away." 

For  answer  he  reaped  a  rich  harvest  of  incredulous 
smiles. 

"  Where  is  he  ?  "  queried  Abner,  with  the  air  of  a 
lion  asking  for  his  prey. 

"  He  does  not  live  in  the  village ;  but  he  comes  here 
the  second  week  in  every  month — that  will  be  next 
week." 

*Door-post  amulet. 


130  STBANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"All  right;  I  shall  be  ready  for  him/'  said  Abner, 
and  nonchalantly  turned  on  his  heel. 

In  the  days  that  elapsed  before  Anton's  monthly 
visit,  Abner  was  the  central  object  of  interest  to  all 
the  little  boys  within  a  radius  of  two  miles.  Some 
ridiculed  him,  some  said  he  was  mad,  but  all  were  of 
opinion  that  something  terrible  was  sure  to  befall  him. 
It  would  serve  him  right  for  his  presumption;  he  had 
no  business,  stranger  that  he  was,  to  lay  a  sacrilegious 
hand  on  the  traditions  of  the  place.  And  so  the 
outcome  of  the  adventure  was  looked  forward  to  on 
tiptoe  of  expectation. 

It  was  towards  the  end  of  the  second  week  when 
two  scouts  brought  the  news  of  Black  Anton's  arrival; 
he  had  been  seen  hobbling  across  the  market-place. 

"You  had  better  wait  for  him  here — he  will  pass 
by  presently/'  Abner  heard  some  one  say.  "  Now  you 
will  see  whether  he  is  a  real  bogey  or  not." 

The  next  instant  he  found  himself  alone,  but  he 
looked  at  the  neighboring  windows  and  saw  many 
eyes  watching  his  movements.  A  great  feeling  of 
loneliness  came  over  him,  a  sudden  fear  that  he  had 
not  weighed  well  the  full  import  of  his  undertaking, 
and  he  whispered  to  himself : 

"  Father  told  me  there  are  no  demons  in  the  world, 
except  the  Evil  Desire  that  is  inborn  in  man." 

With  that  he  regained  some  of  his  composure,  and 
sat  down  on  a  doorstep  and  looked  to  the  top  of  the 
street,  where  Anton  was  to  appear.  Five,  ten  minutes 
passed,  and  Abner  began  to  think,  not,  perhaps,  with 
out  a  suspicion  of  satisfaction,  that  Anton  had  changed 
his  route,  or  that  the  whole  thing  was  only  a  hoax, 


THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM  131 

when  he  saw  something  turn  the  corner,  something 
that  was  small  and  bent,  with  a  cataract  of  white  hair 
about  its  shoulders,  and  dressed  in  a  coat  of  raw  sheep 
skin,  which  trailed  on  the  ground.  Slowly  it  walked 
on,  and  when  it  came  abreast  of  him  Abner  stepped  up, 
with  a  curious  tremor  about  his  limbs,  and  his  eyes 
half-shut. 

"  Black  Anton,  I  am  not  afraid  of  you,  Black  Anton," 
he  said. 

If  he  had  had  his  eyes  open,  he  would  have  seen  that 
it  devolved  more  on  Anton  to  disclaim  fear,  for  he 
tottered  back  a  pace  or  two,  and  his  breath  came  very 
fast,  but  that  might  have  been  with  old  age. 

"  Why  should  you  be  afraid  of  me,  little  boy  ?  "  he 
asked. 

"  Because  all  the  others  are." 

"  Yes,  that  is  true,"  replied  Anton,  and  Abner  could 
have  sworn  he  heard  a  sob. 

"And  you  are  really  not  afraid  of  me,  little  boy?" 
asked  Anton  again. 

"  No,  I  am  certain." 

"  Then  come  to  my  hut,  beyond  the  mill-dyke,  you 
know ;  come  to-morrow,  will  you,  little  boy  ?  " 

Abner  thought  he  could  not  trust  his  ears,  and  so 
he  took  courage  and  cast  a  look  at  the  face  before  him 
— a  thin,  wizened  little  face,  sharply  curved,  with  great 
angles  at  the  jaws,  and  the  stamp  of  ineffable  age  im 
printed  upon  it.  And  then  he  got  to  the  eyes,  and 
gave  a  start  of  wonder,  because  they  were  so  much  out 
of  keeping  with  what  he  had  just  seen;  they  looked  so 
hale  and  fresh  and  bright,  as  though  the  morning  dew 
of  youth  had  lain  upon  them  but  yesterday,  and  in 


132  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

them  he  saw  a  voice  that  repeated  the  old  man's  prayer 
more  clearly  than  his  lips  had  done. 

"  Why  should  I  come  to  you  at  your  hut  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Because  you  are  not  afraid  of  me,  little  boy/'  came 
the  answer  like  the  refrain  of  a  song. 

Abner  reflected.  "I  shall 'come  if  I  can/'  he  said 
at  length. 

Anton  hung  his  head;  then  he  lifted  it  suddenly, 
and  his  gaze  flashed  on  Abner's  with  a  wonderful  light 
that  held  it  captive. 

"  I  shall  come,"  said  Abner,  speaking  like  one  in  a 
dream. 

"  Good  little  boy !  good  little  boy !  "  muttered  Anton. 
He  opened  his  mouth  to  say  more,  but  checked  himself 
with  a  gasp,  and  passed  on  down  the  street,  while 
Abner  looked  after  the  trailing  sheep-skin,  and  marked 
its  wake  over  the  dusty  street  stones  as  if  he  had  never 
seen  such  a  thing  in  his  life.  Then  he  turned  to  go, 
all  oblivious  of  the  skulkers  behind  the  windows,  when 
suddenly  they  came  trooping  out  and  surrounded  him, 
holding  him  back  with  eager  little  hands,  and  deafen 
ing  his  ears  with  their  loud-voiced  curiosity. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  What  were  you  talking  about  ? 
Strip,  and  see  if  he  has  left  the  mark  of  the  evil  eye 
on  you  anywhere." 

Roughly  Abner  elbowed  his  way  through  the  crowd. 
When  he  had  cleared  it,  he  stopped  a  moment,  eying 
them  in  contempt. 

"You  want  to  know  what  he  said?  He  said,  'One 
fool  may  throw  a  stone  into  a  heap  of  rubbish,  and  a 
hundred  wise  men  will  look  for  it  in  vain.' ' 

It  was  early  next  afternoon  that  Abner  wended  his 


THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM  133 

way  to  the  mill-dyke.  Anton  stood  at  the  door  of  his 
hut,  as  if  he  were  looking  for  some  one. 

"  Good  little  boy !  good  little  boy !  "  he  said,  stretch 
ing  out  his  thin,  shrivelled  hand  and  drawing  his 
visitor  into  the  hut.  "  Sit  here — no,  here ;  the  skins 
will  be  softer,  and  the  sun  cannot  get  at  you,  good 
little  boy ! "  and  he  bustled  about  so  nimbly  that 
Abner  could  not  believe  that  this  was  the  foot-sore 
grey-beard  of  yesterday.  "  So  your  name  is  Abner  ?  " 
he  went  on.  " '  Father  of  light/  it  means.  Ah !  I  know 
your  tongue,  though  I  am  not  of  your  faith  and  race. 
A  great  light  shall  be  born  of  you,  little  boy,  I 
prophesy." 

Abner  said  nothing,  and  only  listened  with  all  his 
ears. 

"  You  are  silent ;  you  are  amazed  at  my  ramblings  ?  " 
said  Anton,  with  an  anxious  smile.  "Indeed,  I  know 
what  I  am  saying;  but  only  those  who  have  lived  in 
the  wilderness  can  feel  what  joy  it  is  to  hear  one's 
tongue  shaping  words  and  utterance  in  another's  hear 
ing;  but  I  shall  be  silent,  if  you  prefer  it,  only  do  not 
go  away,  not  just  yet." 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  in  the  wilderness  ? " 
asked  Abner.  "  Why  do  you  not  live  in  the  towns, 
amidst  people,  where  there  is  plenty  of  talk  going  on  ?  " 

"  Is  it  there  less  lonely  than  in  the  desert  ?  Noise 
is  not  company;  in  truth,  where  many  lips  speak,  the 
heart  is  oftenest  silent." 

"  But  why  are  you  here  ?  You  did  not  grow  on  a 
tree,  as  the  saying  is,"  insisted  Abner. 

"I  have  known  the  world,"  smiled  Anton,  evading 
the  question,  "but  I  have  forgotten  it — you  cannot 


134  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

forget  a  thing  unless  you  have  known  it,  can  you, 
Abner?" 

And,  while  Abner  was  still  pondering  what  reply  to 
make  to  his  strange  questioner,  he  felt  him  take  his 
hand  and  lead  him  to  the  window. 

"  Do  you  see  that  pond  over  there  ?  "  Anton  was 
saying.  "  I  stood  by  that  pond  when  the  timber  of  the 
mill-wheels  which  its  waters  drive  was  yet  young  under 
growth  in  the  forest.  And  what  do  you  think  I  did, 
Abner?  I  drowned  a  whole  world  there." 

"  It  hardly  looks  large  enough  for  it,"  said  Abner, 
dubiously. 

"  Ah,  but  a  man's  world  is  not  so  large  as  one  of 
God's,"  went  on  Anton,  very  seriously,  "  and  yet  mine 
was  a  fair  size.  It  was  a  young  man's  world,  you  see, 
and  I  had  made  it  into  a  kingdom,  with  capitals  and 
palaces  and  sanctuaries.  And  then  something  came 
that  threatened  to  lay  my  capitals  waste,  my  minarets 
were  tottering,  and  my  palaces  were  becoming  owls'- 
nests;  and,  therefore,  rather  than  my  eyes  should  be 
saddened  by  the  ruin,  I  came  here  and  buried  it, 
while  it  was  still  stately  and  splendid.  And  thus  I 
have  a  noble  memory  to  feast  my  soul  on.  Was  it  not 
wise  of  me,  little  Abner  ?  " 

"  Perhaps  it  would  have  been  wiser  if  the  king  had 
straightway  followed  his  kingdom,"  said  Abner,  not 
because  he  understood  exactly  what  the  old  man  meant, 
but  because  he  was  evidently  expected  to  say  some 
thing. 

"Yes,  that  would  have  been  wiser,"  said  Anton, 
stroking  the  little  head;  "but  I  was  very  ignorant  in 
those  days."  And  then  it  came  out  like  the  rush  of  a 


THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM  135 

whirlwind :  "  Shall  we  be  friends,  little  Abner  ?  Now 
just  look  at  me  very  carefully,,  and  see  if  there  is  any 
thing  in  me  to  make  you  desire  my  friendship." 

Abner  did  as  he  was  bidden,  and  knew  at  once  what 
answer  to  give ;  he  saw  now  why  the  look  in  the  man's 
eyes  was  so  solemn  and  splendid — it  was  the  reflection 
of  his  sunken  kingdom.  And  therefore  he  said  noth 
ing,  and  only  held  out  both  his  hands. 

"  You  think,  perhaps,  I  am  a  poor  man,"  hurried 
on  Anton,  seizing  them  as  if  he  would  never  again 
let  them  go;  "but  you  are  mistaken.  I  have  much 
gold  to  give  you — a  treasure  of  millions.  I  know 
where  it  is  hidden,  and  if  I  live  long  enough,  we  shall 
dig  for  it  deeply.  Only  you  must  come  again — to 
morrow,  and  the  day  after,  and  every  day." 

"I  shall  come — not  for  the  millions,  but  for  you," 
said  Abner. 

"Look  here,"  said  Anton,  quickly  drawing  aside  a 
curtain  that  partitioned  the  hut  at  the  farther  end, 
"these  are  the  mines.  Are  they  not  worth  coming 
for?" 

Abner  scanned  in  amazement  the  stately  array  of 
books  that  ran,  row  on  row,  along  the  wall  on  rudely- 
hewn  ledges.  He  had  seen  many  books — quite  twenty 
— in  his  father's  house;  his  father  had  been  a  great 
scholar,  and  would  have  made  one  of  Abner.  And  if 
one  could  gather  so  much  knowledge  from  only  a  score 
of  volumes,  how  much  more  from  these  many  hun 
dreds  ! 

"Are  they  not  good  to  look  at?"  asked  Anton, 
noting  his  spell-bound  gaze.  "  And  how  they  talk ! 
The  pity  is  only  they  are  all  soul  and  no  body,  and 


136  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

it  feels  good  at  times  to  be  able  to  touch  with  one's 
hands  as  well  as  with  one's  mind.  Stand  close  to  me, 
Abner." 

It  was  not  till  near  sunset  that  Abner  left  the  hut. 

"  Do  you  see  that  ?  "  said  Anton,  at  the  door,  point 
ing  to  the  glowing  west.  "  This  is  the  hour  at  which 
the  day  seems  either  most  gladsome  or  dreariest; 
for  it  is  the  time  to  take  the  measure  of  its  import, 
and  judge  its  worth  and  value.  If  we  have  spent  it 
well,  that  rosy  hue  is  the  emblem  of  hope  and  solace; 
but  if  we  have  done  otherwise,  it  shall  be  the  flaming 
red  which  is  the  badge  of  guilt  and  shame.  Abner, 
when  you  rise  at  morn,  let  your  first  thoughts  be  of  the 
evening.  Life  is  but  a  day." 

And  Abner  hurried  home  through  the  gathering 
shadows,  and  the  eyes  which  he  knew  were  following 
him  from  the  hut  seemed  to  cast  a  light  before  him 
all  along  his  path.  But  when  he  came  to  the  pond 
he  stopped  for  a  while  and  looked  in.  Quite  right;  at 
the  bottom  of  it  there  were  the  palaces  and  temples, 
with  red  banners  waving  over  them  in  triumph. 

Abner  kept  his  promise  faithfully.  Day  by  day  he 
visited  the  hut,  and  each  time  the  bonds  of  companion 
ship  twined  closer  round  the  old  man  and  the  lad. 
At  first  nobody  took  much  notice  of  their  intercourse, 
because  Abner  was  too  small  a  thing  to  trouble  about. 
It  was  only  when  the  increase  of  inches  in  his  stature 
became  more  apparent,  and  his  uncle  began  to  think 
him  available  for  practical  purposes,  that  the  matter 
came  up  for  discussion. 

"  Where  is  he  all  day  ?  "  asked  Baruch.  "  I  believe 
he  goes  to  the  Gentile,  the  ointment-mixer." 


THE  SUHKEN  KINGDOM  137 

"Because  you  wake  up  at  midday  you  think  it  is 
only  just  dawn,"  said  Fryda,  his  wife.  "  I  have  been 
sure  of  it  for  a  long  time." 

"How  did  you  find  out?" 

"I  asked  the  boy,  and  he  told  me/' 

"Well,  then,  this  shall  be  the  end  of  it,"  said 
Baruch;  "to-morrow  he  starts  with  me  in  my  rope- 
walk." 

"  Nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Fryda;  "  he  is  too  good 
for  hemp." 

"  Then  what  would  you  have  him  be — a  Gentile  ?  " 

"There  is  no  fear  of  that;  I  have  watched  him 
keenly — he  has  not  departed  from  the  ordinances  of 
our  faith,  no,  not  by  a  nail's  breadth.  There  is  no 
harm  in  the  Gentile;  he  is  good  and  wise,  and  his 
cure  for  the  colic  is  excellent.  Eather  let  Abner  learn 
the  making  of  medicines  and  the  preparation  of  salves, 
which  we  can  afterwards  sell  at  a  great  profit." 

"  And  the  poor  shall  have  them  for  nothing !  "  inter 
posed  Baruch. 

"  Selfish  to  the  core  you  are,  Baruch,  my  husband," 
said  Fryda,  in  annoyance,  "to  snatch  away  from  me 
the  merit  of  a  pious  resolve — was  it  not  on  the  tip  of 
my  tongue?  Yes,  Baruch,  as  I  was  saying,  the  poor 
shall  have  them  for  nothing." 

And  so  Abner  was  relieved  of  a  great  fear,  the  fear 
that  he  would  be  put  to  a  trade  and  his  opportunities 
of  associating  with  Anton  restricted.  But  when  in 
stead  he  found  them  facilitated,  and  knew  he  could 
give  his  heart's  desire  full  rein  without  danger  of  hav 
ing  to  curb  it  in  mid-career,  then  he  did  marvellous 
things.  Already  Anton  had  given  him  much  knowl- 


138  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

edge;  the  books  on  the  wall  were  beginning  to  talk 
to  him  in  their  strange  languages,  softly  and  falter- 
ingly,  it  is  true,  but  he  was  getting  to  understand  them. 
Now,  however,  that  it  was  no  forbidden  thing,  his 
passion  seized  him  with  a  giant  grasp  and  hurried  him 
on  irresistibly. 

"More,  more  Anton,"  he  would  cry;  "why  are  you 
so  niggardly?  All  that  you  give  me  has  been  but  for 
one  tooth,  and  I  have  so  many  teeth." 

And  Anton  stood  by,  almost  terrified  by  the  raven 
ous  greed  he  had  created,  and  thanked  God  that  in 
his  own  store  of  provision  there  was  sufficient  to 
satiate  it. 

So  the  years  passed  on  in  summers  and  winters. 
And  at  last  there  came  a  summer  when  Anton  knew 
he  would  not  hear  the  reapers'  harvest  song,  because 
another  reaper  would  forestall  them. 

"  We  shall  not  work  to-day,"  he  said  when  Abner 
came  one  afternoon;  "we  shall  go  out  and  listen  to 
the  sunshine." 

Abner  helped  him  out  to  the  little  hillock,  which 
was  Anton's  favorite  basking-place,  because  from  there 
he  could  see  over  to  the  pond. 

"  I  feel  so  young  to-day,  little  Abner,"  he  said, 
looking  up  at  the  sturdy  young  figure  that  towered 
over  him,  "I  could  almost  start  fashioning  myself 
another  kingdom." 

"  I  have  fashioned  one  for  you,"  said  Abner,  quietly 
— "in  song,"  he  went  on  in  answer  to  Anton's  ques 
tioning  look,  "  a  song  of  sovereignty  it  is.  Would  you 
care  to  hear  it  ?  " 

Anton  nodded,  and  Abner  took  out  of  his  pocket  a 


THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM  139 

written  sheet,  and  read  from  it  the  tale  of  a  man 
who,  if  he  had  chosen,  might  have  been  a  king  over 
his  fellows;  only  he  thought  there  was  no  stability 
or  endurance  in  such  dominion,  and,  therefore,  he 
resigned  his  sway,  and  dwelt  in  the  wilderness,  alone, 
the  monarch  of  his  solitude.  But  one  day  there  came 
a  little  child,  and  in  its  bosom  he  founded  a  mighty 
realm,  that  stood  fast  in  its  foundations,  wherein  he 
ruled  as  ruler  absolute;  and  beneath  his  sceptre  the 
kingdom  widened,  until  it  embraced  a  whole  world,  in 
which  there  was  but  one  lord  and  one  vassal.  And  so 
the  song  went  on,  while  the  sunbeams  danced  on  the 
singer's  face,  and  the  listener's  head  drooped  lower 
and  lower.  And  when  the  last  great  surge  of  melody 
had  ebbed  away,  Anton  looked  up  and  said: 

"Who  taught  you  that,  little  boy?" 

"  So  you  are  human,  after  all  ? "  laughed  Abner, 
with  a  happy  laugh.  "  Human,  with  the  besetting  sin 
of  mankind,  which  is  vanity.  You  would  have  me 
utter  your  name  aloud,  shout  it  to  the  skies,  blazon 
it  abroad  to  the  ends  of  the  earth?  Then,  listen: 
'  Anton,  Black  Anton  it  was  that  taught  me  the  golden 
glory  of  the  sunrise,  the  majesty  of  noon,  the  grandeur 
of  the  darkness — taught  me  the  magic  of  the  seasons, 
the  mysteries  of  life  and  death/  " 

And  then  suddenly  he  knelt  down,  and  put  his  arm 
round  the  stooping  shoulders,  and  whispered: 

"For  a  long  time  I  have  been  hearing  a  voice  in 
my  heart,  struggling  for  utterance  with  the  cadences 
of  music  wherein  the  song  of  the  lark,  the  laugh  of 
the  flowers,  and  the  cry  of  the  tempest  were  all  blend 
ed.  But  I  refrained  from  speaking  with  that  voice  till 


140  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

it  should  be  able  to  give  forth  something  that  was 
worth  the  hearing,  for  I  had  sworn  to  myself  that  your 
name  should  be  its  first  theme.  Tell  me,  master,  have 
I  done  well?" 

"  You  have  done  exceedingly  well — better  than  the 
theme  deserves,  or  its  inspiration  might  warrant. 
What  I  have  done  for  you  is  such  a  little,  little  thing 
compared  to  the  debt  I  owe  you." 

Abner  almost  sprang  back  in  his  astonishment. 

"  The  debt  you  owe  me  ?  "  he  echoed.  "  You  who 
have  made  me  rich  with  a  treasure  of  millions,  with 
uncountable,  imperishable  wealth — you  speak  of  owing 
me?  Anton,  you  have  always  deemed  me  worthy  of 
your  truth;  do  not  humiliate  me  thus." 

Anton  struggled  to  his  feet,  and  his  face  shone. 

<e  When  I  went  through  the  villages,"  he  said,  "  and 
saw  the  little  ones  fly  from  me  as  from  a  pestilence 
or  a  wild  beast  let  loose,  I  used  to  ask  myself :  c  Anton, 
why  has  this  reproach  been  put  upon  you  ?  Why  have 
you  been  set  aside  from  the  rest  of  men  to  be  an  out 
cast  from  the  places  of  purity  and  innocence — the 
hearts  of  the  children?  Surely,  there  is  something 
imperfect  in  you,  something  lacking;  perhaps  God  has 
forgotten  to  give  you  a  soul,  and  the  children  have 
discovered  it/  Then  you  came  and  stood  before  me 
and  said,  (  Anton,  I  am  not  afraid,'  and  then  I  knew  I 
possessed  all  the  attributes,  God-born  and  earth-born, 
which  man  should  possess.  My  reproach  was  taken 
from  me,  and  when  I  enter  the  gates  of  death,  the 
Recording  Angel  can  no  longer  say :  '  Here  comes  the 
man  of  whom  the  children  were  afraid/  I  am  no 
longer  ashamed  to  die — that  is  the  debt  I  owe  you, 


THE  SUNKEN  KINGDOM  141 

Abner.     And  now  come,  it  is  getting  chill,  and  the 
sunset  is  near,  very  near." 

The  next  morning  when  Ahner  came  to  the  hut,  he 
found  the  old  man  stretched  on  his  couch,  still  and 
stately;  but  in  the  glazed  eyes  could  be  read  a  pro 
clamation  of  victory,  and  from  his  rigid  lips  one  could 
almost  hear  and  see  the  paean  of  triumph  ascending: 
his  reproach  had  been  taken  from  him. 
************* 

Years  afterwards  a  fine  gentleman  and  a  beautiful 
lady  were  standing  in  the  little  Christian  cemetery, 
near  Turok,  before  a  magnificent  tomb  of  marble, 
coped  high  by  a  golden  dome. 

"I  could  not  do  less  for  him,"  the  gentleman  was 
saying;  "it  was  but  the  poorest  way  of  honoring  the 
memory  of  a  king.  And  now  that  you  have  seen  his 
grave,  come  and  I  shall  show  you  where  his  kingdom 
is  sepulchred." 

And  presently  they  stood  before  the  brimming  pond, 
which  drove  the  lazy  mill-wheels  as  of  old,  and  looked 
into  its  depths. 

"Do  you  not  see  the  cupolas  and  the  buttresses, 
with  the  crimson  banners  streaming  aloft  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  lady  looked  and  saw  them  distinctly,  because 
she  saw  everything  through  his  eyes. 

"  What  his  story  was  ?  "  he  asked,  in  answer  to  her 
question.  He  took  her  hand  in  his  and  went  on 
dreamily,  "  I  don't  know,  Eachel ;  he  never  told  me. 
But,  if  I  may  guess,  woe  to  the  kingdom  whose  king 
has  not  won  the  queen  with  whom  he  would  share  his 
throne." 


TOWARDS  THE  SUNRISE 

AFTER  bestowing  both  his  parents  in  the  grave,  and 
his  only  sister  in  marriage,  Judah  Engelsohn  was  free 
to  do  as  he  pleased.  The  income  he  derived  from  the 
dairy-farm  he  had  inherited  from  his  father,  late  factor 
to  Count  Gribalski,  the  great  land-owner,  provided  him 
with  comfortable,  if  not  over-affluent,  means  of  sub 
sistence.  And  so  he  said  good-bye  to  the  four-footed 
ruminators  who,  together  with  their  predecessors,  had 
engorged  the  first  twenty-three  years  of  his  life,  and 
came  to  Warsaw. 

There  was  a  special  reason  why  he  chose  the  Polish 
capital  for  his  place  of  abode.  Into  his  boyhood's 
hermitage  there  had  come  from  time  to  time  vague 
echoes,  faint  after-quivers  of  the  great  upheaval  that 
was  stirring  his  people,  dazed  with  suffering,  out  of 
their  millennial  torpor.  By-and-by  these  rumors  had 
changed  into  tidings  of  certainty.  His  soul  caught 
fire:  he  longed  to  be  present  at  the  awakening,  to 
add  his  shout  to  those  that  were  bidding  the  sleeper 
arise  and  array  himself  once  more  in  the  glory  of 
which  he  had  been  stripped  by  the  despoiling  centuries. 
And  Judah  felt  it  would  be  base  and  criminal  to 
remain  longer  where  he  was,  thrust  away  out  of  sight 
of,  out  of  touch  with  his  fellows  in  faith,  in  the  soli 
tude  where  one  remembered  only  by  a  miracle,  or  at 
best  by  an  accident,  that  one  belonged  to  a  great  race 
and  a  great  destiny. 


TOWARDS  THE  SUNRISE  143 

Judah  had  no  acquaintances  in  Warsaw;  he  brought, 
however,  a  letter  of  introduction  to  Uriah  Vilenski, 
the  doyen  of  the  Jewish  Students'  Association.  On 
the  second  day  after  his  arrival  Judah  called  on 
Vilenski. 

"  So  you  have  come  here  because  you  want  to  help 
Zion  ?  "  asked  the  latter,  after  the  usual  preliminaries 
of  identification,  looking  curiously  at  his  visitor. 
"  What  can  you  do  ?  " 

"I  don't  know  yet,"  replied  Judah.  "How  can  I 
tell  when  I  am  ignorant  of  what  there  remains  to  be 
done?" 

"  Everything,"  said  Vilenski;  "  we  have  got  as  far 
as  the  beginning.  We  want  men  to  help  us  farther. 
I  don't  know,  you  might  be  one  of  them.  Have  you 
learnt  anything  ?  You  speak  Russian  remarkably  well." 

"  The  tutor  of  the  young  counts  gave  me  three 
hours  a  week,"  said  Judah,  simply.  "I  can  read 
Cicero ;  I  have  a  fair  knowledge  of  French  and  German 
and  a  tolerable  notion  of  the  questions  of  the  day. 
These  are  my  accomplishments.  I  have  but  one  nat 
ural  talent — my  love  for  Zion." 

"  That  is  always  welcome,  even  reckoned  as  an 
acquirement,"  broke  in  Vilenski.  "  And  that  is  where 
your  work  should  lie.  You  should  utilize  your  talent, 
and  impart  it  to  others." 

Judah  looked  up  quickly.  "I  do  not  ask  for  any 
thing  better.  I  could  not  ask  for  anything  easier. 
Nothing  could  be  easier  in  this  great  city  where  every 
third  man  I  meet  is  linked  to  me  by  the  memory  of 
Jerusalem's  ruins.  I  shall  make  them  listen  to  me. 
I  shall  go  to  them  one  after  another,  and  say — " 


144  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"A  sort  of  roving  commission/'  interrupted  Vilen- 
ski,  smilingly.  "No,  friend,  we  are  more  methodical 
than  that.  Listen,  there  are  about  a  dozen  of  us. 
We  call  ourselves  the  Kadima.  We  have  forsworn  the 
seeking  of  wealth  and  earthly  honors,  and  all  who 
would  be  of  us  must  do  the  same.  We  are  pledged  to 
Zion  body  and  soul.  While  our  pulses  are  capable  of 
a  throb,  while  our  minds  can  fashion  a  thought,  we  shall 
toil  in  her  service.  She  needs  many  such  toilers,  many 
such  servitors.  I  think  you  would  be  a  valuable  re 
cruit.  Will  you  join  us  ?  " 

Judah  gazed  silently  at  the  floor.  "  Kadima,"  he 
said  at  last,  half  to  himself,  "  that  means  eastward, 
towards  the  Sunrise.  Yes,  that  is  whither  we  should 
be  tending — thither,  where  our  new  day  is  breaking, 
where  the  shadows  will  be  afraid  to  follow  us.  It 
will  be  sweet  to  have  a  little  sunshine  again;  we  have 
shivered  long  enough  with  the  cold.  And  then  you 
ask  me,  if  I  would  be  one  of  those  to  lead  the  way  ?  I 
beg  it  of  you  as  a  privilege.  Eastward — aye,  ever 
eastward ! " 

And  so  it  came  that  Judah  joined  the  Kadima;  but 
no,  he  did  not — the  Kadima  joined  him.  He  had  been 
a  little  unjust  to  his  natal  star  in  the  enumeration 
of  his  natural  gifts.  The  discovery  surprised  him  as 
much  as  the  others.  At  the  first  meeting  of  the 
Kadima  that  he  attended,  he  had  risen  to  his  feet 
to  offer  some  trivial  suggestion.  He  had  thought  that 
a  few  well-turned  sentences  would  be  enough  to  give 
it  expression,  but  a  quarter  of  an  hour  afterwards  he 
was  still  standing  up,  still  speaking,  for  to  save  his  life 
he  could  not  check  the  flood  of  eloquence  that  came 


TOWAEDS  THE  SUNEISE  145 

surging  up  from  his  heart's  depths,  taking  to  itself, 
with  every  second  breath,  fresh  scope  and  volume, 
widening  out  into  majestic  eddies  of  sweeping  argu 
ment,  and  anon  contracting  itself  into  whirlpools  of 
passionate  fervor.  He  was  unconscious  of  his  gape- 
mouthed  audience;  he  was  not  addressing  them;  he 
was  speaking  to  himself.  These  were  the  culminations 
of  his  night  vigils,  the  thoughts  and  feelings  his  heart 
had  accumulated  these  many  years,  cramping  them  up, 
hoarding  them  jealously,  till  there  was  no  more  stor 
age-room.  And,  therefore,  he  spoke,  because  his  words 
were  to  him  as  the  air  of  heaven  to  a  choking  man. 

When  he  sat  down  there  was  a  momentous  silence, 
followed  by  a  short  whispered  consultation  among  the 
members,  and  presently  Yilenski  came  up  to  him. 

"We  cannot  let  you  work  with  us/'  he  said. 

"  Why — why  not  ?  "  queried  Judah,  taken  aback. 

"You  are  too  good  for  us — too  strong  for  us,  and, 
therefore,  if  we  are  to  act  in  concert,  let  us  work  with 
you.  You  are  a  stranger  in  our  midst — a  mere  pro 
bationer;  and  already  you  have  shown  that  you  can 
do  in  minutes  what  we  could  not  do  in  years.  We 
have  men  amongst  us  who  have  given  up  the  marrow 
of  their  youth,  the  sinews  of  their  manhood  in  our 
mission — none  more  so  than  I.  But  we  must  stand 
aside.  If  this  work  is  to  be  achieved,  the  lesser  of 
us  must  make  way  for  the  greater  ungrudgingly,  with 
out  murmur  or  complaint.  Only  the  best  shall  hold 
command.  Be  our  general;  let  us  follow  under  your 
banner." 

That  was  how  the  Kadima  joined  Judah.  Nor  was 
it  long  before  his  fame  had  trickled  out  beyond  its 


146  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

narrow  confines.  Whenever  he  was  seen,  on  the 
Nalevkas,  in  the  street  of  the  Franciscans,  or  anywhere 
within  the  purlieus  where  the  teeming  thousands  of 
his  coreligionists  congregated,  men  gazed  and  pointed 
after  him :  "  There  goes  Judah  Engelsohn."  And  any 
one  who  noted  the  massive,  lion-like  head  with  the 
broad  thinker's  forehead  and  the  fearless  eyes — who 
watched  the  towering  frame  striding  erect  and  resolute 
through  their  midst  as  though  nothing  could  deflect  it 
from  its  path  or  purpose — added  to  himself :  "  Yes,  I 
thought  he  would  look  like  that." 

Some  six  months  afterwards  Judah  had  occasion  to 
call  on  Vilenski,  to  consult  with  him  on  business  con 
nected  with  their  Association.  His  friend  was  out, 
but  was  expected  back  shortly.  Judah  decided  to 
await  his  return.  Vilenski's  room  was  on  the  second 
floor,  and  overlooked  the  court  formed  by  the  four 
blocks  of  buildings  that  flanked  its  sides.  Judah  sat 
down  by  the  window,  and  gazed  out  vacantly.  The 
square  was  deserted;  the  men — artisans  most  of  them 
— had  gone  to  their  work;  the  women  were  cooking; 
the  children  were  in  school.  Suddenly  Judah  heard 
the  front-gate  shut  with  a  clang,  and  a  moment  after 
Ivan,  the  red-headed  concierge,  came  staggering  into 
the  middle  of  the  court.  Judah  saw  at  a  glance  that 
the  man  had  drunk  heavily,  but  he  did  not  know  what 
had  brought  the  cunning,  murderous  look  into  his 
eyes,  or  what  he  concealed  so  sedulously  under  his 
jacket.  The  fact  was  that  this  happened  to  be  Ivan's 
saint's-day,  and,  as  usual,  he  observed  it  by  drinking 
himself  into  delirium  tremens.  Now,  even  in  his  most 
rational  and  charitable  moments,  Ivan  could  not  for- 


TOWAKDS  THE  SUNBISE  147 

give  his  wife  for  not  being  some  one  else's  wife;  and 
when  in  his  present  condition,  he  always  did  his  best 
to  rectify  her  mistake  by  making  himself  a  widower. 
He  was  sure  she  was  in  hiding  somewhere  about  the 
adjoining  premises,  and  now  he  was  standing  sentry 
here,  waiting  for  her  to  appear  down  one  of  the  stair 
cases.  The  tenants  were  not  much  concerned;  they 
knew  that  Ivan's  wife  had  gone  to  fetch  the  police, 
and  that  in  five  minutes  the  danger  would  be  over. 

Judah  watched  the  man  attentively;  there  was  food 
for  reflection  in  the  spectacle.  Whatever  reproach 
their  detractors  might  hurl  against  his  brothers,  their 
malice  could  not  go  so  far  as  this.  They  could  not 
taunt  them  with  effacing  from  their  countenances,  as 
this  brute  had  done,  the  image  of  the  God  who  made 
them.  There  might  be  a  few — ah!  but  it  was  these 
few  that  saved  the  many.  Judah  bent  forward:  the 
drunkard  was  standing  on  the  alert — some  one  was 
descending.  Yes,  a  young  girl  stepped  out,  veiled  and 
richly  dressed;  evidently  she  did  not  belong  to  any 
of  the  tenant  families.  For  a  moment  she  stood  won 
dering  at  the  strange  sight  that  met  her  gaze.  Ivan 
began  to  stumble  towards  her;  he  had  heard  the  rustle 
of  skirts,  and  that  was  enough  to  convince  him  he  had 
his  wife  to  deal  with.  Then,  as  the  girl  realized  her 
danger,  she  screamed,  and  darted  past  him  to  gain  the 
gateway.  A  glance  showed  her  it  was  closed,  and  there 
would  not  be  enough  time  to  undo  the  bars.  She 
turned  round,  but  by  now  the  ruffian  had  intercepted 
her  way  back  into  the  court-square.  To  the  left  of 
her  was  a  little  door.  Judah  just  gave  himself  time  to 
see  her  disappear  behind  it,  when  he  rushed  down, 


148  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

five  steps  at  a  time.  Ivan's  hand  had  moved  under 
his  doublet,  and  there  had  been  a  glitter  of  steel. 
Judah  knew  that  the  door  led  to  a  bricked-up  flight 
of  stairs,  at  the  top  of  which  the  girl  would  be  caught 
in  an  impasse;  he  himself  had  blundered  into  it  at 
his  first  visit.  He  reached  it  just  as  Ivan's  foot  was 
on  the  threshold,  hauled  him  back  by  the  collar,  jerked 
the  knife  from  his  nerveless  grasp,  and  sent  him  spin 
ning  into  a  convenient  puddle.  It  was  all  the  work 
of  a  moment. 

"You  can  come  down  now,"  called  Judah,  "there 
is  no  danger." 

She  appeared  almost  immediately;  her  face  showed 
very  white  under  her  veil,  but  otherwise  her  demeanor 
was  calm.  She  cast  a  shuddering  glance  at  Ivan,  who 
had  sat  up,  propped  on  his  elbow  and  whimpering 
piteously. 

"  Thank  you,"  she  said  quietly,  as  she  saw  Judah 
forcing  back  the  heavy  bolts  of  the  gate;  and  Judah 
did  not  know  whether  she  thanked  him  for  saving 
her  life,  or  only  for  procuring  her  egress.  He  took 
it  to  mean  both. 

"May  I  escort  you  home?"  he  asked  diffidently. 
"  You  are  probably  a  little  shaken  by  this  unpleasant 
incident." 

"  Yes,  do  come,"  she  said  cordially ;  "  my  father  will 
naturally  want  to  acknowledge  his  obligation  to  you. 
He  would  scold  me,  did  I  not  bring  you." 

Judah  hailed  a  fiacre,  his  companion  gave  an  ad 
dress,  and  Judah  wondered  not  a  little  as  he  heard  it. 
Indeed,  he  wondered  so  much  that  he  thought  his  ears 
had  deceived  him.  It  was  a  long  drive,  and  for  the 


TOWARDS  THE  SUNRISE  149 

most  part  a  silent  one;  but  Judah  found  enough 
pastime  in  studying  her  face.  It  was  a  pleasant  study. 
And  then  he  started  to  wonder  afresh  as  the  vehicle 
pulled  up  outside  a  huge  mansion  in  the  Praga  suburb. 
He  knew  to  whom  it  belonged.  So  he  had  not  made 
a  mistake.  It  was,  indeed,  the  daughter  of  Heinrich 
Kronemann,  the  great  banker,  the  greatest  Jew  in 
Warsaw,  whom  he  had  saved  from  a  terrible  fate! 

A  minute  or  two  after  he  was  sitting  in  a  magnifi 
cent  saloon;  he  waited  a  little,  and  then  the  door 
opened  for  the  banker  and  his  daughter. 

"  So  you  are  the  hero,"  said  the  former,  striving  to 
be  jocular;  but  the  trembling  in  his  voice  and  the 
moisture  in  his  eyes  belied  the  attempt.  "I  have 
many  millions  of  roubles— I  can't  help  people  knowing 
the  fact,"  he  continued,  "but  I  have  only  one  child. 
How  can  I  repay  you  ?  " 

"By  saving  me  the  trouble  of  answering  you  with 
commonplaces,"  said  Judah,  grasping  the  banker's 
proffered  hand;  "one  can  appreciate  gratitude  better 
when  it  is  unspoken." 

"  There  is  something  in  that,"  replied  the  banker, 
thoughtfully;  "the  best,  then,  I  can  do  is  to  honor 
your  wish,  Mr. " 

"  Engelsohn,"  expleted  Judah. 

"It  would  be  easy  to  pun  on  the  name  under  the 
circumstances,"  said  Kronemann.  Then  he  turned  to 
his  daughter,  and  his  tone  became  more  animated. 
"As  usual,  it  is  your  fault  that  I  find  myself  in  a 
predicament.  I  gave  you  strict  orders  not  to  perform 
these  incognito  charitable  exploits  of  yours  unaccom 
panied.  I  warned  you  you  would  play  the  good 
Samaritan  once  too  often,  and  come  to  a  bad  end." 


150  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Annette  has  a  cold,  and  the  people  were  starving," 
answered  the  girl;  "  besides " 

"  Yes,  besides  ?  " 

"  One  may  be  disobedient  in  a  good  cause." 

"  That  sounds  horribly  Jesuitical,  you  little  rebel," 
said  her  father,  tapping  her  cheek  smilingly;  "but 
my  head  is  not  fit  just  now  for  unmasking  the  fallacy. 
Fll  do  something  more  simple:  I  shall  ask  Mr.  Engel- 
sohn  to  stop  to  lunch." 

Judah  did  not  answer  immediately.  Something 
told  him  not  to  accept— a  sense  of  danger  which  had 
begun  to  possess  him  towards  the  end  of  their  drive, 
and  which  gained  fuel  at  the  prospect  of  spending 
more  time  in  the  girl's  immediate  presence.  He 
felt  ashamed  of  his  apprehension — as  much  as  if  he 
had  uttered  it  aloud;  it  was  so  puerile.  And,  there 
fore,  to  spare  his  self-respect,  he  translated  it  into  the 
necessity  of  seeing  Yilenski.  He  told  his  would-be 
host  that  he  had  an  appointment. 

"  I  am  exceedingly  sorry,"  said  Kronemann,  heart 
ily;  "but  I  hope  you  will  give  me  another  opportunity 
of  cultivating  your  acquaintance.     Bertha,  will  you, 
as  hostess,  ask  Mr.  Engelsohn  to  call  again  ?  " 
"  For  her  sins,"  smiled  Judah. 
But  from  the  tone  and  manner  of  her  invitation  it 
did  not  appear  that  Bertha  regarded  it  in  the  light  of 
a  penance. 

"Would  you  please  leave  your  card?"  she  said 
shyly.  "  You  may  want  a  reminder." 

Judah  handed  it  to  her,  feeling  he  had  ceded  a 
bulwark  of  his  safety.  Once  back  in  the  street,  he 
drew  a  breath  of  relief.  Now  that  he  was  alone  with 


TOWAKDS  THE  SUNKISE  151 

himself,  he  need  not  conceal  what  it  was  he  feared. 
He  did  not  want  to  come  under  a  woman's  spell — fall 
in  love,  as  it  was  commonly  called;  he  had  heard  that 
was  the  most  terrible  accident  that  could  happen  to  a 
man.  To  love  Kronemann's  daughter?  For  Judah 
Engelsohn  that  would  be  an  irreparable  disaster.  He 
must  keep  mastery  over  his  emotions.  He  had  his 
work  to  do — work  that  should  be  done  well. 

Vilenski  was  awaiting  him  anxiously;  he  had  been 
given  a  confused  account  of  what  had  occurred. 

"  Do  you  know  who  she  is  ?  "  he  asked,  when  he  had 
heard  the  true  version. 

"  I  will  tell  you  on  condition  that  no  one  else  knows," 
said  Judah ;  "  Bertha  Kronemann." 

"What,  the  banker's  daughter?" 

Judah  nodded. 

It  took  Vilenski  a  full  minute  to  recover  his  breath. 
"  And  you  say  that  as  quietly  as  if  it  were  the  name 
of  your  washerwoman  ?  "  he  shouted. 

"  Am  I  to  go  into  hysterics  ?  " 

"Why,  man,"  continued  Vilenski,  eagerly,  "can't 
you  read  the  stars  ?  Don't  you  grasp  the  possibilities  ? 
You  have  free  access  to  Heinrich  Kronemann;  you 
have  eloquence  enough  to  talk  a  fossil  into  life.  If 
you  can  convert  him  to  us,  we  can  boldly,  safely,  write 
*  Victory  '  on  our  standard." 

"I  have  thought  of  that  myself,"  replied  Judah,  a 
little  coldly ;  "  possibly  I  may  make  the  attempt.  I 
really  don't  know  whether  I  shall  ever  call  there  again." 

Vilenski  stared  at  him  stupefied;  but  he  asked  no 
questions.  He  had  learnt  to  look  on  Judah  as  an 
elemental  mystery,  and  therefore  took  him  for  granted. 


STKANGEBS  AT  THE  GATE 


Week  succeeded  week,  and  Judah  made  the  best  of 
them.  The  Kronemann  episode,  as  he  called  it  to 
himself,  was  fading  from  his  mind  beneath  the  stress 
of  work.  Occasionally  Bertha's  face  and  voice  came 
to  trouble  him.  For  antidote  he  worked  harder.  But 
at  the  end  of  a  month  arrived  her  reminder  —  the 
reminder  which  he  had  not  desired,  and  which  never 
theless  gladdened  him  more  than  he  dared  admit.  The 
note  ran  as  follows  : 

"You  are  not  paying  me  a  compliment.  I  have 
not  thanked  you  for  your  service.  I  intended,  on  your 
own  principle,  to  evince  my  gratitude  in  my  friendship. 
You  evidently  require  neither.  And  I  grieve  for  it. 
Bertha  Kronemann." 

After  that  he  went,  although  he  guessed  what  it 
would  mean.  He  guessed  right.  He  took  away  with  him 
from  his  visit  the  consciousness  that  he  lay  in  the 
balance;  a  hair's  weight  might  decide  whether  hence 
forth  he  would  belong  to  himself  or  to  her.  And 
that  made  him  struggle  on  a  little  longer;  but  only  a 
little.  The  third  time  he  left  her  a  vanquished  man, 
but  one  who  exulted  in  his  downfall.  It  made  him 
strong  —  even  as  the  giant  of  old  rose  reinforced  by 
contact  with  his  Mother  Earth.  And  that  justified 
him  in  his  own  eyes.  She  did  not  sap  his  energies; 
she  fed  them  till  they  overflowed  with  their  exuber 
ance.  And  because  she  did  that,  she  was  a  laudable 
necessity.  But  then  came  a  fear,  a  horrible  fear  that 
made  him  writhe.  This  spell,  this  enchantment  in 
which  he  revelled  was  precarious;  it  hung  on  a  thread. 
Any  day,  every  day,  he  might  lose  the  right  to  come 
to  her  for  his  inspiration;  and  the  rest  would  be  aim- 


TOWARDS  THE  SUNRISE  153 

less,  nameless  agony — the  slow-gnawing,  relentless 
worm  that  poisoned  and  cankered  and  killed.  One 
evening,  as  they  were  alone — she  had  been  singing  to 
him — she  noticed  the  ungovernable  terror  in  his  eyes. 
She  asked  him  what  it  meant. 

"  You  ought  to  know,"  he  said  almost  sullenly;  "  you 
put  it  there.  One  thing  only  can  remove  it." 

"And  that  is?" 

For  reply  he  gave  her  a  look,  but  no,  it  was  not 
a  look;  it  was  his  soul  pointing  its  finger  straight  at 
her. 

" Myself?"  she  exclaimed,  drooping  her  head. 

"  Yourself.     Will  you  do  it  ?     You  know  how." 

"  You  have  a  right  to  ask  the  question,"  she  said 
at  last ;  "  only  it  is  not  of  me  you  should  ask  it — of 
my  father.  And" — a  flush  crept  over  her  at  the 
words — "  ask  him  soon." 

"  To-morrow  ?  "  he  ventured,  scarcely  articulating 
the  word. 

She  hurried  shamefacedly  to  the  door;  from  there 
she  nodded  assent. 

A  minute  after  he  was  out  in  the  street,  and  the 
dull  thud  of  his  footsteps  was  music  in  his  ears. 
Everything  was  music  and  light  and  gladness.  Per 
haps  it  would  be  that  only  till  to-morrow,  but  while 
it  lasted  he  would  quaff  it  to  the  dregs. 

He  had  forgotten:  to-morrow  night  had  been  fixed 
for  the  great  public  meeting  when  the  Kadima  would 
submit  their  programme  of  propaganda  for  the  first 
time  to  the  mass  of  their  coreligionists.  Judah,  as 
the  chief  organizer,  felt  considerable  anxiety  as  to  its 
success;  the  blame  of  a  fiasco  might  fall  on  him.  He 


154  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

was  half  sorry  he  had  undertaken  his  interview  with 
Kronemann  for  the  following  day;  but  there  was  no 
help  for  it  now.  Bertha  might  put  a  wrong  construc 
tion  on  his  dilatoriness.  And,  moreover,  in  the  cool 
light  of  reflection,  it  seemed  more  desirable  to  put  his 
fate  to  the  hazard  at  the  earliest.  He  shuddered :  after 
all  it  was  a  hazard,  and  he  might  lose.  Yet  there  was 
one  comfort  even  in  that;  if  he  lost  now,  there  would 
be  nothing  else  the  losing  of  which  need  cost  him  a 
single  pang.  Perhaps  that  was  true  happiness — to 
have  suffered  beyond  the  climax. 

He  had  seen  very  little  of  the  banker;  even  when 
he  was  in  the  house  he  showed  himself  but  rarely. 
And  as  Judah,  the  following  afternoon,  knocked  at 
the  door  of  his  study,  he  suddenly  became  aware  that 
Bertha's  father  was  comparatively  a  stranger  to  him, 
and  that  made  his  task  more  difficult.  But  the 
banker's  cheery  manner  reassured  him. 

"  You  are  the  very  man  I  want  to  see/'  he  said,  as 
Judah  entered;  "  in  fact,  I  was  going  to  send  for  you. 
Sit  down." 

The  banker  strode  silently  once  or  twice  across  the 
room.  Then  he  confronted  Judah  suddenly. 

"  I  should  like  to  ask  a  favor  of  you,"  he  said 
quite  solemnly;  "I  want  you  to  marry  my  daughter. 
I  am  perfectly  serious,"  he  went  on,  noting  the  young 
man's  look  of  amazement.  "  I  have  even  gone  so  far 
as  to  first  ascertain,  very  discreetly,  her  feelings  on  the 
subject.  And  while  you  think  over  my  offer,  I  shall 
give  you  one  or  two  reasons  which  prompted  me  to  it. 
To  begin,  then,  I  liked  you  from  the  first,  apart  from 
the  claim  you  had  on  my  good-will.  I  liked  your  keep- 


TOWARDS  THE  SUNRISE  155 

ing  aloof  when  another  man,  relying  on  his  merits, 
would  have  battered  my  walls  in.  Bertha  wrote  you 
that  letter  at  my  instigation.  The  thought  of  making 
you  her  husband  came  to  me  the  second  time  you 
called;  otherwise  I  should  hardly  have  thrown  you  so 
much  into  each  other's  way.  You  think  I  know  noth 
ing  about  you,  that  I  am  rash  in  trusting  my  only 
child  to  a  haphazard  acquaintance.  You  are  mistaken. 
A  practiced  reader  of  character,  as  I  am,  hardly  needs 
more  than  a  casual  glance  or  two  to  draw  his  con 
clusions.  I  inferred  you  possessed  common-sense, 
backbone,  rectitude.  That  was  all  I  required.  I  have 
no  sons  to  keep  the  house  from  passing  into  strange 
hands  after  my  death.  My  name  would  be  forgotten. 
I  want  you  for  my  successor.  I  want  the  firm  of 
Kronemann  and  Co.  to  rank  with  the  first  in  the  world. 
Call  it  vanity — I  desire  to  raise  for  myself  a  lasting 
monument.  Another  point,  a  matter  of  superstition, 
perhaps.  My  own  good  fortune  was  the  outcome  of 
accident.  I  was  lucky  enough  to  do  the  founder  of  the 
house  almost  as  great  a  service  as  you  have  done  me, 
and  in  consequence  married  his  daughter.  I  have  pros 
pered;  by  the  same  token  I  prognosticate  you  will  suc 
ceed  in  ratio  to  our  beginnings.  You  see,  I  have  been 
candid." 

"  0  God!  what  am  I  to  say ?  "  breathed  Judah,  with 
beating  heart. 

The  banker  lifted  his  finger.  "Wait,  I  have  not 
quite  finished;  till  then  reserve  your  answer.  It  has 
come  to  my  ears  that  you  are  one  of  the  most  promi 
nent  champions  of  the  so-called  National  movement." 

Judah  rose  eagerly,  but  the  other  waved  him  down 
and  continued: — 


156  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  In  view  of  that  I  want  you  to  give  me  a  guarantee 
—your  word  of  honor  will  be  sufficient— that  you  will 
once  for  all  sever  your  connection  with  these  hare 
brained  hobby-riders.  The  task  which  I  impose  on 
you  is  too  difficult  to  allow  any  division  of  energy — 
too  matter-of-fact  to  run  smoothly  alongside  of  soap- 
bubble  hallucinations  and  day-dreamings.  In  short,  I 
want  to  safeguard  it  against  any  possible  rival  in  your 
affections.  That  is  my  only  condition;  no  doubt  you 
will  find  it  easy." 

"  No,  I  do  not  find  it  easy/'  Judah  burst  out,  bat 
tling  with  his  despair.  "  You  have  been  very  cruel, 
Mr.  Kronemann,"  he  went  on  more  gently;  "you  give 
me  a  glimpse  into  Paradise,  and  then  tell  me  that  I 
can  gain  entrance  only  by  leaving  behind  the  one  thing 
I  held  dear  on  the  hither  side.  Or  did  you  only  want 
to  see  what  a  Tantalus  looked  like  ?  " 

''  Yes,  viewed  from  that  point,  it  certainly  seems  a 
little  hard/'  reflected  the  banker;  "  only  it  is  the  wrong 
point.  I  respect  your  reluctance;  it  is  good  our  ideals 
should  die  hard — it  is  what  makes  life  worth  living. 
And,  therefore,  when  the  time  comes,  let  us  be  prac 
tical?' 

"  By  all  means,  then,  let  us  be  practical,"  assented 
Judah,  with  a  sudden  hope.  "  Tell  me,  Mr.  Krone- 
mann,  have  you  given  much  thought  to  the  question 
of  our  national  regeneration  ?  " 

"  Not  much,  I  admit.  I  contented  myself  with  lis 
tening  to  its  advocacy  by  others.  And  what  did  I 
hear  ?  Rodomontades  in  fustian  that  walked  about  on 
stilts  to  make  them  look  big.  And  because  they 
walked  on  stilts  they  were  fairly  easy  to  trip  up." 


TOWAEDS  THE  SUNBISE  157 

"Quite  so,"  said  Judah,  his  voice  quavering,  "I 
will  not  presume  to  put  any  new  aspect  of  the  case 
before  you.  I  have  merely  a  burning  desire  to  be 
practical.  I  shall  tell  you  only  what  I  can  swear  to. 
I  have  seen  Jewish  porters  at  the  railway  stations 
carrying  three  tunes  their  own  weight  of  baggage;  I 
have  seen  hundreds  of  Jewish  wood-fellers  cutting 
timber  in  the  Lithuanian  forests;  I  have  seen  droves 
of  Jewish  raftsmen  on  the  Vistula  working  their  way 
miles  and  miles  against  the  current;  and  I  have  seen 
thousands  of  Jewish  field-laborers  harnessing  them 
selves  to  their  ploughs  in  place  of  the  oxen  they  had 
sold  to  buy  seed.  You  would  call  these  men  of  muscle, 
I  suppose. 

"  Yes,"  conceded  the  banker,  hesitatingly. 

"  Again,  in  the  house  in  which  I  live  there  are  four 
students  whose  gymnasial  reports  show  they  were 
always  at  the  top  of  their  class.  There  is  a  little  boy 
who  can  easily  multiply  rows  of  six  figures  in  his  head. 
There  is  a  young  artisan  who  has  made  the  model  of 
a  steam  crane  without  ever  having  handled  a  book  on 
mechanics.  There  is  also  a  hawker  to  whom  six  weeks 
ago  I  gave  ten  roubles  to  set  him  up,  and  who  has 
made  them  into  a  hundred.  All  that  would  argue 
brains,  I  believe." 

"I  see  your  drift,"  said  the  banker. 

"  Please  note  that  this  is  only  the  result  of  my 
own  limited  observation.  These  people  are  not  ex 
ceptions,  they  are  specimens.  Here,  then,  you  have 
brain  and  muscle — some  of  the  material  which  goes 
to  the  making  of  a  nation." 

"Yes,  some,"  emphasized  the  banker. 


158  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  The  rest  is  merely  a  matter  of  organization,  of 
arrangement/'  continued  Judah.  "  We  are  sweeping 
away  internal  misunderstandings  and  differences;  we 
are  beginning  to  combine,  to  collaborate;  we  are  no 
longer  limbs,  we  are  a  body.  And  then  there  are  the 
necessities  of  the  case.  These,  of  course,  are  self- 
evident." 

"No,"  exclaimed  the  banker,  "I  will  grant  you 
everything  but  the  necessities.  This  latter-day  exodus 
is  not  wanted.  It  is  merely  the  desire  to  repeat  his 
tory.  Our  Jews  here  are  perhaps  a  little  more  ground 
under  heel  than  the  rest  of  the  proletariat.  If  so, 
it  is  the  penalty  they  must  pay  for  being  as  yet  only 
step-children  of  their  country.  They  must  wait  and 
work  for  their  redemption  as  their  brothers  have  done 
elsewhere.  Possibly,"  he  sank  his  voice,  and  looked 
round  cautiously,  "  possibly  they  may  not  have  long  to 
wait.  The  signs  are  in  the  sky;  the  times  are  pregnant. 
What  births  they  will  bring  forth  no  one  can  tell. 
Probably  they  will  have  a  baptism  of  blood — some 
Jewish  blood  amongst  it.  We  may  not  live  to  see  it, 
but,  sooner  or  later,  deliverance  will  come — from 
within.  Till  then,  patience." 

"Ah,  patience!  patience!"  muttered  Judah,  deso 
lately;  "and  in  the  meantime  our  mother's  heart  is 
breaking  to  see  her  sons  degraded  into  cattle,  her 
daughters  haled  by  the  hair  along  the  highways." 

"There  it  is,  the  cloven  hoof,"  said  Kronemann 
lightly,  to  loosen  the  tension  that  was  becoming  awk 
ward;  "the  sentimentalist  revelling  in  generalities. 
Do  you  call  that  being  practical  ?  The  man  who  talks 
like  that  is  capable  of  writing  his  business  letters  in 
rhyme/' 


TOWARDS  THE  SUNKISE  159 

Judah  stood  motionless,  his  face  set  and  a  haggard 
wretchedness  in  his  eyes.  The  banker  saw  it  and  was 
touched. 

"I  won't  press  you  for  an  immediate  decision/'  he 
said,  his  hand  on  Judah's  shoulder.  "I  shall  give 
you — say,  twenty-four  hours.  That  is  as  much  as 
any  man  wants — I  shall  be  candid  again — to  reconcile 
himself  to  his  good  fortune.  By  the  way,  you  will 
find  Bertha  in  the  drawing-room;  she  may  help  you  to 
your  determination." 

Judah  waited.  "  Is  there  no  compromise  possible  ?  " 
he  quavered. 

"  None ;  there  are  two  alternatives ;  you  will  do  well 
to  keep  that  in  mind.  It  will  save  you  from  com 
plicating  your  methods  of  reasoning/7 

Gropingly  Judah  made  his  way  up  the  escalier.  At 
the  drawing-room  door  he  stopped  and  listened.  She 
was  playing  the  piece  she  knew  to  be  his  favorite.  A 
wild  longing  came  over  him;  if  his  life  went  forfeit 
over  it,  he  must  see  her  once  more. 

She  turned  at  the  click  of  the  handle  and  rose 
quickly,  but  as  she  saw  his  face,  she  hung  back  with 
her  hand  to  her  heart. 

"You  have  asked  father,"  she  faltered  at  last;  "he 
has  refused,  and  has  sent  you  to  me  to  say  good-bye." 

"  On  the  contrary,"  he  replied  voicelessly,  "  your 
father  was  good  enough  to  give  me  the  chance  of 
refusal." 

And  then  he  told  her  quickly  what  had  happened. 
"You  have  small  reason  to  be  pleased  with  me,"  he 
ended  up ;  "I  could  win  you  by  the  stretching  out  of 
my  arm — and  I  hesitate  because  of  an  hallucination, 
a  day-dream,  as  your  father  calls  it." 


160  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  That  only  shows  your  love  is  worth  having/'  she 
said  almost  inaudibly. 

"  Suppose,  then,  I  persist  in  this  day-dream  ?  " 

"Judah,  you  will  not  persist?  Oh,  say  you  will 
not/' 

He  turned  from  her  with  a  dumb  gesture  of  despair. 
She  came  close  to  him. 

"Listen,  Judah/'  she  whispered;  "I  do  not  call  it 
a  shadow,  an  illusion.  To  me  it  is  a  great,  grand 
reality.  Many  a  time  the  thought  of  it  has  set  my 
nerves  tingling;  many  a  time  I  have  said,  '0  that  I 
could  help/  Look,  I  am  turning  traitress  against  my 
own  father.  Make  concessions  to  his  caprice — if  only 
in  appearance.  Later  on,  when  the  irrevocable  has 
happened,  you  will  always  find  ways  and  means  to  be 
of  service  to  the  cause,  indirectly " 

He  shook  his  head  wearily.  "I  am  to  give  my 
word_you  have  forgotten  that."  And  then  he  flamed 
up.  '"'You  have  made  one  suggestion,  I  shall  make 
a  second.  If  my  love  is  worth  having,  then  follow 
your  heart's  bidding  and  none  other.  You  said  your 
self  one  may  be  disobedient  in  a  good  cause ;  now  prove 
it.  You  can  help  the  good  cause  by  helping  me. 
Without  you  I  am  useless,  an  empty  husk;  with  you  I 
could  achieve  miracles.  And  I  promise  you,  the  honor 
of  it  shall  be  yours  and  yours  only.  It  is  in  your  hands 
to  raise  your  father  a  monument  a  thousand  times 
more  durable  than  the  one  he  dreams  of  himself. 
Bertha,  I  repeat,  it  is  in  your  hands !  " 

She  listened  to  him  patiently,  but  her  voice  was  very 
sad  as  she  replied :  "  I  have  deserved  this — I  must  not 
complain.  I  counselled  treachery — you  counsel  open 


TOWAHDS  THE  SUNKISE  161 

revolt.  A  few  words  will  answer  you:  I  dare  not — for 
the  life  of  my  father — I  dare  not.  A  year  ago  he 
broke  a  blood-vessel  Any  sudden  shock,  and  I  trem 
ble  for  the  consequences.  Do  you  want  it  to  be  on 
my  conscience " 

She  broke  off,  and  buried  her  face  in  her  hands. 

c<  Then  nothing  remains/'  he  said  hollowly. 

"  Yes,  twenty-four  hours  of  reflection  remain,"  came 
from  her  quickly. 

"Twenty-four  hours  of  torture,"  he  echoed. 
"  Would  to  GFod  I  had  them  behind  me — whichever  of 
my  two  loves  they  will  bury." 

"Judah!" 

He  saw  the  passionately  uplifted  hands,  and  went 
out.  The  gesture  haunted  him.  Again  and  again  he 
tried  to  put  it  from  him.  He  wanted  his  mind  clear, 
crystal  clear.  He  had  to  think — think,  when  his 
thoughts  were  so  many  snowflakes  whirling  wildly  in 
the  hurricane  of  his  emotions.  No,  he  would  let  it  be 
for  the  present.  Later  on  it  would  come  to  him  of  its 
own  accord,  without  racking,  without  writhing.  This 
was  a  useless  riot  of  pain ;  he  must  be  calm,  or  he  would 
die. 

Colorlessly  the  hours  dragged  by  till  it  was  seven 
o'clock.  Mechanically  he  made  his  way  to  the  hall 
where  the  meeting  was  to  take  place. 

Vilenski  looked  at  his  white,  wan  face,  and  asked: 

"What,  you,  Judah?  Lamp-fever?  Stage-fright? 
What  are  we  others  to  say  then  ?  " 

Judah  made  a  great  effort,  and  parried  the  inquiry. 
Ko  prying,  no  questioning,  or  he  must  strangle  some 
thing — himself  by  preference.  As  in  a  dream  he 


162  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

watched  the  huge  hall  filling  steadily.  He  felt  the 
great  subtle  waves  of  excitement  undulating  through 
the  assembly,  at  first  only  distantly,  but  presently  they 
came  nearer;  the  first  thrill  touched  his  soul,  pain- 
numbing,  healing,  life-giving.  He  began  to  hope  again; 
yes,  his  decision  would  come  to  him  in  a  flash,  without 
a  throe.  And  once  he  had  it  in  his  grasp  it  might 
kill  him,  but  he  would  not  let  it  go.  Better  a  hell  of 
certainty  than  an  ecstasy  of  doubt. 

The  greatest  Jewish  scholar  in  Warsaw  occupied  the 
chair.  One  by  one  the  speakers  rose,  gripped  the  ear 
of  the  audience,  and  sent  their  message,  blood-warm, 
down  to  their  hearts.  The  waves  of  excitement  waxed 
into  billows  of  enthusiasm.  Judah's  speech  had  been 
left  to  the  last;  it  was  to  be  the  climax,  the  coping- 
stone  on  the  fabric  that  was  to  be  reared  that  night. 

A  hush,  throbbing  with  the  pulse  of  its  own  stillness, 
held  the  gathering  as  he  came  forward.  Every  ear, 
every  eye  strained,  lest  a  word,  a  movement  of  face  or 
hand  should  escape  it.  Judah  felt  the  magnetic  silence 
that  argued  his  power;  but  he  himself  was  dissatisfied; 
he  was  wasting  breath.  This  was  not  what  he  meant. 
He  was  not  striving  to  convince  them,  he  wanted  to 
carry  conviction  to  his  own  heart.  And  in  that  he 
had  failed  so  far.  His  utterances  seemed  to  him  idle 
antics  of  sound.  But  at  last  he  struck  the  right  note. 
He  touched  on  the  joy  of  self-surrender  that  made  a 
sacrifice  of  its  bleeding  heart,  and  looked  on  smilingly, 
as  on  a  thank-offering;  that  gave  up  life  and  love  be 
cause  that  was  the  most  one  can  give  up,  and  because 
the  best  could  be  fed  and  fostered  only  with  what  was 
best.  His  hearers  grew  frightened,  for  this  was  the 


TOWARDS  THE  SUNRISE  163 

first  time  they  had  seen  a  human  soul  stand  before 
them  in  its  white-gleaming  nakedness.  Judah  had 
conquered,  and  so  he  could  sing  his  song  of  self -victory. 

"  The  land  of  Kedem  is  trembling  with  joy  to  its 
inmost  caverns/'  rose  his  pa?an;  "its  soil  is  quickening 
with  prophetic  gladness,  and  mightily  is  Jordan  rear 
ing  his  waters  to  pour  teeming  fruitfulness  into  its 
bosom;  for  that  the  songs  of  the  Lord  shall  once  more 
re-echo  on  his  banks,  and  that  the  singers'  voices 
might  not  grow  faint  for  hunger.  There  is  a  rustling 
in  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  which  have  been  as  cypresses 
in  their  desolation;  their  branches  are  whispering  one 
to  the  other:  '  Be  joyful;  the  wanderer  is  returning 
home,  the  outcast  is  coming  into  his  own  again.'  And 
in  his  rock-dwelling,  Father  Abraham  is  listening, 
night  and  day,  that  he  may  be  the  first  to  catch  the 
myriad  footfalls  of  his  sons,  marching  eastward.  Aye, 
brothers,  up  and  towards  the  Sunrise ! " 

Judah  stopped,  but  the  vibrating  hush  continued 
long  after  the  last  word  had  left  his  lips.  Then  came 
the  first  ripple  of  applause  that  heralded  the  coming 
cataract.  Already  it  had  gathered  itself  into  moder 
ate  fulness;  already  it  had  started  to  reverberate — but 
instead  of  the  cataract,  it  suddenly  oozed  out  into  a 
dull,  sullen  buzz  of  consternation. 

"  Dead,  dead,"  people  were  murmuring,  "  Heinrich 
Kronemann  is  dead." 

Judah  caught  the  words,  not  once,  but  a  dozen  times, 
as  he  forced  his  way  out  through  the  way-giving 
throng.  In  a  quarter-of-an-hour  he  had  reached  the 
mansion.  A  few  gaping  quidnuncs  were  hovering 
round.  Judah  stopped  one  of  the  footmen,  who  had 


164  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

just  come  back  from  an  errand.  Yes,  it  was  true. 
A  telegram  had  brought  bad  news  that  evening,  and 
the  master  had  had  a  stroke.  Slowly,  very  slowly,  Judah 
walked  back  to  his  lodgings.  He  was  wondering 
whether  it  would  be  counted  against  him  on  Judgment 
Day  that  he  was  glad  he  needed  not  to  give  an  answer 
to-morrow.  To  Bertha  he  wrote :  "  I  shall  come  when 
you  want  me/' 

It  was  a  month  after  that  she  wanted  him.  They 
were  standing  together  at  the  window,  peering  into 
the  twilight. 

"  I  had  no  compunction  in  renewing  my  suit,"  said 
Judah,  tenderly;  aii  was  not  inciting  you  to  revolt. 
Your  father's  project,  even  had  he  lived,  has  become 
an  impossibility.  The  Government  monopoly  that 
wrecked  his  investments  and  broke  his  heart  took 
good  care  of  that.  You  are  not  going  counter  to 
his  will." 

"  Do  you  know,  Judah,"  she  said  solemnly,  "  I  some 
times  am  afraid  his  death  was  God's  visitation  on  his 
purblindness." 

"  Afraid  ?  You  should  exult — exult  that  his  death 
has  not  been  useless,  if  it  only  strengthens  our  belief 
in  the  Providence  that  watches  our  destiny.  You  can 
say,  then,  he  died  for  our  cause.  He  shall  have  his 
monument.  His  memory  shall  go  with  us  as  we 
struggle  towards  the  Sunrise." 


ON  THE   ROAD  TO   ZION 

(ANOTHER  VIEW  or  THE  FOREGOING) 

LEIB,  Hirsh,  and  Wolf  were  loitering  at  the  street 
corner,  with  a  vague  and  purposeless  air  about  them. 
This  was  chiefly  noticeable  by  the  resolute  manner  in 
which  they  kept  their  hands  inside  their  trousers  pock 
ets,  having,  apparently,  no  other  use  for  them. 

"What's  the  good  of  having  a  holiday,  when  you 
don't  know  what  to  do  with  it  ?  "  grumbled  Hirsh. 

The  other  two  answered  the  question,  or,  rather, 
echoed  it  by  their  silence.  It  was  indeed  a  pitiable 
state  of  things.  Here  were  three  healthy  youngsters, 
totalling  as  much  as  thirty  years  among  them;  a 
clear  sky  with  plenty  of  sun — the  season  was  late 
summer — a  wnole  day  of  perfect,  wholesale  irrespon 
sibility — in  fact,  all  the  ingredients  for  Paradisiacal 
bliss  without  a  saucepan  to  cook  them  in. 

"Let's  go  and  tie  the  ropemaker's  flax  into  knots," 
suggested  Leib. 

"We  did  that  only  last  week,"  replied  Hirsh,  with 
withering  scorn  at  Leib's  want  of  originality. 

"  Each  time  the  man  passes  me  he  looks  murder," 
attested  Wolf. 

"Suppose  we  find  a  dead  cat,  and  fling  it  on  old 
Chava's  vegetable  stall,"  continued  Leib,  unabashed. 

"You'll  do  nothing  of  the  sort,"  said  Wolf,  warmly; 
"we've  got  potatoes  for  dinner  to-day,  and  I  don't 
know  if  mother  has  bought  hers." 


166  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Torba,  the  butcher's  wife,  has  hung  out  her  wash 
ing/'  Leib  went  on  to  remark  dreamily,  leaving  the 
others  to  gauge  the  scope  of  the  possibilities  connected 
with  the  event. 

"  Yes,  but  when  she  does,  that  bull-dog  of  hers 
walks  about  loose — ever  since  that  time,"  Hirsh  re 
minded  him,  the  reminder  opening  up  a  black  vista  of 
iniquity. 

Leib  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  sighed.  That  sigh 
was  his  lament  over  the  finality  of  earthly  things.  A 
pathetic  silence  followed  his  heroic  attempts  to  infuse 
interest  into  their  dreary  existence.  Then  he  stamped 
his  foot,  and  shouted  fiercely  at  Wolf : — 

"  Where's  that  rascal  of  a  Noah  ?  You  must  know 
— you  live  in  the  same  house.  If  we  only  had  him.  .  ." 

"  I've  already  told  you  I  don't  know,"  interrupted 
Wolf,  unconcernedly;  "  since  last  night  he's  invisible." 

"  Not  so  far  as  I  can  see,"  put  in  Hirsh,  shading  his 
eyes  and  peering  ahead.  "  Why,  here  he  comes." 

"  Where  ?  "  cried  the  other  two  in  a  breath.  As  a 
rule,  Noah's  arrival  on  the  scene — any  scene — was 
heralded  by  a  ringing  whoop.  This  time  there  was 
no  whoop,  and  that  rather  staggered  them. 

"  To  be  sure,  there  he  is,"  they  were  compelled  to 
admit  the  next  instant,  despite  the  absence  of  the  cus 
tomary  evidence. 

"He's  got  cramp  in  his  legs,  he  walks  so  slowly," 
observed  Hirsh,  solemnly. 

"If  he  has,  it  isn't  from  tight  boots,"  remarked 
Wolf,  with  a  covert  allusion  to  Noah's  bare  feet.  Any 
other  time  he  would  have  raised  a  laugh,  but  there  was 
something  portentous  in  the  funereal  pace  at  which 
Noah  was  locomoting  himself. 


ON  THE  ROAD  TO  ZION  167 

"  Bless  me,  he's  turning  the  other  way ! "  cried  Leib, 
in  amazement.  "  What's  happened  to  him  ?  " 

And  then  he  lifted  up  a  stentorian  voice,  and  called 
him  loudly  by  name.  Noah  evidently  heard  him,  for 
in  response  he  shook  his  drooping  head,  and  continued 
the  sorrowful  tenor  of  his  way.  The  trio  became 
thoroughly  alarmed;  the  mystery  of  Noah's  demeanor 
had  its  terrors.  In  a  moment  they  had  scampered  to 
his  side;  but  Noah  waved  them  off  with  a  gesture  of 
unspeakable  grief. 

"  Anything  wrong  at  home  ?  "  asked  Leib,  hurriedly. 

"  Worse/'  breathed  Noah. 

"  Tell  us,"  came  in  unison. 

"Not  here,'*  said  Noah  wearily;  "somewhere  where 
we  shall  be  all  alone." 

That  was  easy  enough;  if  their  little  native  place 
was  rich  in  anything,  it  was  in  uninhabited  environ 
ment,  amidst  which  it  lay — a  dot  in  the  infinite. 

"  This  will  do,"  said  Leib,  making  halt  at  a  disused 
barn. 

Noah  acquiesced,  and  somewhat  ostentatiously  brush 
ing  away  an  imaginary  tear,  he  began : — 

"I  am  disgraced  for  life.  Last  night — you  know 
what  happened  last  night  ?  " 

The  trio  looked  conscious;  they,  as  well  as  a  certain 
pear-tree,  could  have  told  what  had  happened  for  one 
thing. 

"Last  night,"  recommenced  Noah,  intently  study 
ing  the  shrunken  grass  at  his  feet,  "  was  a  meeting  of 
the  Brothers  of  Zion.  All  the  grown-up  people  went 
to  hear  that  wonderful  Maggid  *  that's  been  all  over 

*  Itinerant  preacher. 


168  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

the  world,  trying  to  preach  us  Jews  back  into  Jeru 
salem.  So  I  just  slipped  in  as  well,  to  see  if  he  was 
really  worth  the  fuss  they  are  all  making  about  him. 
Well,  I  can  only  tell  you  he  is.  The  way  he  kept 
twisting  up  his  face— each  time  differently — and  rolled 
his  eyes,  and  swung  his  arms  round,  jabbering  all  the 
time,  was  a  thing  I  wouldn't  have  missed  for  a  pot  of 
beet-root  soup." 

And  Noah  drew  a  long  breath,  and  sat  lost  in  the 
reminiscence  of  the  spectacle. 

"Well?''  urged  his  hearers,  impatiently.  They 
were  getting  sorry  they  had  not  been  there  as  well, 
despite  the  successfully  exploited  pear-tree. 

Noah  pulled  himself  up  as  though  dragged  back  into 
a  horrible  reality. 

"  Yes,  I  enjoyed  myself  while  that  Maggid  lasted," 
he  continued;  "  I  didn't  feel  a  bit  inclined  to  make  a 
move,  even  if  we  hadn't  all  been  jammed  in  as  tight 
as  raisins  in  the  straining-cloth.  But  after  him, 
Simcha,  the  cobbler,  got  up,  and  talked  at  us  through 
his  nose,  and  that  made  me  fidgety.  I  shifted  a  leg — 
just  so  much — and  at  once  one  of  the  men  in  my 
neighborhood  turned  round,  and  said,  if  I  kicked  him 
again,  I  should  not  live  to  be  Barmitzvah.  And  pres 
ently  another  of  them  said  that  if  I  went  on  digging 
my  elbow  into  his  ribs,  I  should  fit  a  small  coffin.  So 
all  I  could  do  was  to  sit  there  wagging  my  head;  and 
suddenly — upon  my  word,  I  couldn't  help  it — Satan 
came  and  jogged  my  voice,  and  out  I  burst  with  a 
e  kickerikee '  that  went  bang,  right  through  the  place. 
Well,  then  you  should  have  seen  the  hollabaloo. 
Shmaya,  the  beadle,  bustled  up,  took  me  by  the  scruff, 


ON  THE  EOAD  TO  ZIOIST  169 

and  pommelled  me  out  of  the  hall,  saying  that  if  I  was 
a  cock-a-doodle-do,  he  would  use  me  as  a  ransom- 
offering  for  the  Eve  of  Atonement." 

"  Yes,  that's  very  sad,  I'm  sure/'  commented  Wolf, 
with  the  suspicion  of  a  smile;  he  was  glad  that,  after 
all,  the  pear-tree  had  been  the  best  policy ;  "  but  there's 
no  reason  to  be  so  disheartened  about  it — don't  you 
think  so  ?  "  he  appealed  to  the  others. 

"  Not  by  any  means,"  assented  Leib ;  "  you  get  even 
with  Shmaya  as  soon  as  you  can,  and  there  the  matter 
ends." 

"  That's  your  idea  of  it,"  replied  Noah,  disconso 
lately  ;  "  you  think  it's  nothing  to  be  called  a  woe  and 
a  disgrace  to  Israel,  to  be  cuffed  and  pommelled  in 
sight  of  the  whole  town,  like  a — like  a " 

The  power  of  comparison  failed  him  for  the  moment, 
and  no  one  thought  of  helping  him  out.  "  I  shall 
never  be  able  to  lift  my  eyes  up  again,"  he  concluded 
dismally. 

The  others  sat  quiet,  awed  into  silence  by  this 
exhibition  of  moral  sensitiveness,  of  which  they  had 
never  considered  Noah  capable. 

"  Well,  what  can  you  do  ?  "  asked  Wolf,  at  length. 

"  I  was  just  making  up  my  mind  when  you  dis 
turbed  me.  At  first  I  thought  of  slaughtering  all  the 
people  in  the  place,  but  that  wouldn't  do,  would  it  ?  " 

His  hearers  agreed  that  it  was  too  radical  a  measure, 
and  that  its  possibility  was  doubtful. 

"  Then  I  had  another  plan,  but " 

"  Speak  out,"  said  Hirsh,  encouragingly. 

"  But  you  must  promise  to  help  me.  I  might  do  it 
alone,  only  I'm  not  selfish.  I  want  you  all  to  have 
some  of  the  glory." 


170  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Glory  ?  "  echoed  Leib,  suspiciously.  "  Are  you  sure 
it  won't  be  something  else  ?  " 

"If  you're  frightened,  of  course "  and  Noah 

stopped  eloquentty  short. 

Leib  took  the  aspersion  on  his  courage  with  philo 
sophic  calm. 

"  <  Buy  the  cat  in  the  bag,  and  you'll  find  it's  blind/  " 
he  quoted.  "  Anyway,  let's  hear." 

With  conspirator-like  caution  Noah  looked  round 
him.  He  knew  there  could  be  no  eavesdroppers,  but 
he  did  it  for  effect,  and  succeeded.  Their  curiosity 
redoubled. 

"I  got  the  idea  of  it  from  what  the  Maggid  said 
last  night,"  he  confided  to  them  in  a  whisper;  "he 
said  this  wasn't  our  proper  home,  and  that  we  had  no 
business  to  live  anywhere  but  in  Jerusalem." 

"  Well,  then,  why  don't  we  ?  "  interrupted  Hirsh. 

"  Because  we  can't  get  in,  that's  why.  There  are 
some  people  there  that  believe  in  the  moon,  and  don't 
keep  Passover;  they've  made  themselves  quite  at  home 
in  the  place,  and  if  they  let  one  or  two  of  us  in,  they 
think  they're  doing  us  a  great  favor.  And  so  we've 
got  to  stick  here  and  give  money  to  the  burgomaster 
not  to  let  the  Christians  smash  our  windows." 

"That's  certainly  most  unfair,"  observed  Wolf; 
"  but  where's  that  glory  you  were  talking  about  ?  " 

Noah  put  on  his  most  impressive  manner.  "  That's 
coming.  Look  here.  It's  all  very  well  for  the  Maggid 
to  go  on  spouting  by  the  hour,  but  what's  the  good  of 
it?  It's  only  wasting  time — the  moon-people  can't 
hear  him,  and  so  they  don't  know  what  we  want. 
Suppose  we  let  him  go  on  spouting  and  calling  them 


ON  THE  EOAD  TO  ZION  171 

names,  while  we,  the  four  of  us,  take  a  little  walk  over 
to  them,  and — are  you  frightened,  Leib  ?  " 

"  Go  on,"  said  Leib,  his  ears  quick-set. 

"  And  say  to  them :  '  You're  a  pack  of  thieves — 
just  clear  out  of  here;  this  place  belongs  to  us,  and 
we're  going  to  have  it.  If  not,  we'll  send  you  Moses, 
and  he'll  make  it  lively  for  you  with  plagues.'  Or, 
perhaps,  we  might  talk  to  them  more  politely — some 
thing  like  this :  '  Would  you  mind  kindly  moving  to 
another  country — because  our  parents  want  to  come 
back  here — they  aren't  at  all  comfortable  where  they 
are,  and  they  would  be  much  obliged  to  you  for  it. 
You  can  take  your  moon  away  with  you — we've  got 
one  of  our  own.'  Well,  Leib,  what  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  But  the  glory?  "  insisted  Wolf. 

"  Don't  you  see,  you  blockhead  ? "  resumed  Noah. 
"  Of  course,  they'll  say  '  Yes,'  and  then  we'll  come 
back,  and  tell  our  people :  '  It's  all  right  about  Jerusa 
lem — we've  got  it.  Pack  up  your  bundles,  and  say 
good-bye  to  the  burgomaster.  He'll  be  sorry  to  see  you 
go;  he  won't  have  anybody  to  give  him  roubles  now. 
And  then,  you  see,  we'll  all  be  petted  and  stuffed  with 
honey-cake — just  as  the  Maggid  is  now — and  when  we 
grow  up,  they'll  make  us  wardens  of  the  synagogue. 
Only  you  mustn't  forget  to  let  everybody  know  that 
it  was  my  idea — just  to  show  them  I  can  do  something 
more  than  cry  (  kickerikee.' '; 

The  trio  looked  at  Noah,  and  then  turned  their 
glances  on  one  another. 

"  There's  something  in  it,"  said  Leib,  tentatively. 

"  Something  ?  "  iterated  Noah,  scornfully. 

"Well,  something"  said  Leib,  with  more  emphasis. 


172  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  If  it  comes  off  it  might  be  a  good  thing  for  all  of 
us,"  was  Hirsh's  opinion. 

"  At  any  rate,  it  would  give  us  something  to  do  for 
the  day/'  put  in  Wolf. 

The  last  remark  carried  great  weight.  It  almost 
convinced  Leib. 

"  How  far  is  it  to  Jerusalem  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Is  that  you,  Leib  ?  "  said  Noah,  with  affected  sur 
prise.  "  I  shouldn't  have  thought  it,  not  for  a  mo 
ment.  A  proper  man  like  you  does  things  first,  and 
asks  questions  afterwards.  However,"  he  condescended 
to  inform  the  inquirer,  "  it  can't  be  so  very  far,  be 
cause,  when  you  stand  on  the  hill,  and  look  straight 
in  front,  you  can  see  where  the  world  comes  to  an  end, 
and  the  sky  begins.  I  should  think  we  could  be 
there  and  back  by  bedtime." 

"  It's  a  good  idea,  distinctly,"  Leib  now  stated  with 
great  positiveness.  The  subtle  flattery  of  being  called 
a  proper  man  had  wormed  its  way  deep  into  his  soul. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  asked  Noah,  of  the  two  others. 

"  We  might  have  a  try,"  replied  Hirsh,  thoughtfully. 

"  But  what  about  dinner  ?  "  interposed  Wolf. 

Even  Noah,  in  his  idealist  mood,  was  bound  to  con 
cede  the  practical  nature  of  the  question. 

"  Oh,  we'll  wait  for  it — plenty  of  time  to  start  after 
wards.  Only  you  mustn't  say  anything  at  home;  it 
would  come  nicer  as  a  surprise.  And  don't  let  us 
wait  for  one  another;  let's  walk  back  here  singly; 
people  might  suspect  something,  if  they  saw  us  march 
out  in  a  body." 

His  enthusiasm  had  magnified  the  outward  aspect 
of  the  skimpy  little  band  into  that  of  a  devastating 
army. 


ON  THE  EOAD  TO  ZION  173 

Then  they  returned  home,  and  drove  their  respective 
mothers  frantic  with  clamorings  for  the  accelerated 
appearance  of  the  midday  meal.  When  they  regath- 
ered  at  their  place  of  assignment,  Leib  had  girded 
himself  with  a  tin  sabre,  Wolf  bore  in  his  hand  a 
trumpet,  which  blew  two  distinct  and  separate  notes, 
and  Hirsh  was  found  to  be  possessed  of  eleven  copecks, 
which  discovery  was  hailed  with  universal  acclamation. 
Only  Noah  appeared  unaugmented,  and  consequently 
thought  it  incumbent  on  him  to  extenuate  the  fact. 

"  You  see,  I've  brought  my  mouth  with  me,"  he 
said,  "because  I  shall  have  to  do  the  talking  when 
we  get  there." 

The  others  generously  refrained  from  pointing  out 
that  he  was  making  a  virtue  of  a  necessity,  and  im 
mediately  formed  themselves  into  a  council  of  war. 

"  I  suppose  I  am  going  to  be  captain,"  said  Hirsh, 
without  preliminary. 

"  You — why  ?  "  came  indignantly  from  Leib  and 
Wolf. 

"  Because  I've  got  the  money  to  pay  the  travelling 
expenses." 

"  That's  not  what  makes  people  captains,"  said  Leib, 
loftily;  "it's  this." 

He  drew  his  sabre  from  its  sheath,  and  brandished 
it  vehemently. 

"  What's  that  good  for  ?  "  cried  both  Wolf  and  Hirsh. 

"To  frighten  the  moon-people,  if  they  should  take 
it  into  their  heads  to  say  '  No,'  "  was  the  ready  answer. 

"  Ha !  ha !  you've  got  to  get  at  them  first ;  and  that's 
where  I  come  in,"  jeered  Wolf. 

"How — with  that  rotten  trumpet  of  yours  ?" 
screamed  Hirsh  and  Leib,  one  after  the  other. 


174  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Certainly.  Suppose  the  place  is  locked  up  ?  Who's 
going  to  blow  down  the  walls  as  they  did  at  Jericho  ?  " 

Noah  had  held  aloof  from  the  altercation,  partly 
from  chagrin  at  the  rank  ingratitude  that  so  cal 
lously  ignored  his  own  overwhelming  claims,  and 
partly  from  foreknowledge  how  the  squabbling  would 
end,  namely,  by  leaving  things  as  they  were. 

"  Suppose  we're  all  captains  ?  "  he  remarked  quietly. 

The  others  looked  stupefied.  Why  hadn't  they 
thought  of  that  before  ?  Yes,  Noah  was  a  great  man 
— only  they  didn't  tell  him  so,  for  fear  he  should  get 
too  conceited. 

"  All  right,  let's  get  on,"  said  Leib,  sheathing  his 
sword  and  striding  on  resolutely.  Thus  the  four 
mighty  adventurers  started  on  their  mission  of  con 
quest.  They  felt  brisk  and  buoyant ;  the  consciousness 
of  their  high  purpose  annihilated  all  possibility  of 
failure.  The  sun,  too,  was  in  very  good  form  that  day, 
and  made  itself  agreeable  without  becoming  a  nuisance; 
apparently  it  had  also  just  had  a  good  dinner. 

They  kept  to  the  high  road,  and  had  been  walking 
a  quarter  of  an  hour  when  they  met  a  peddler.  The 
latter,  suspecting  them  to  be  the  offspring  of  potential 
customers,  thought  it  policy  to  be  polite  to  them. 

"  Good  morning,  young  gentlemen,"  he  sang  out. 

"  Is  this  right  for  Jerusalem  ?  "  asked  Noah,  by  way 
of  reply. 

The  peddler  was  hot  and  hungry,  and  the  thought 
that  they  were  trifling  with  him  made  him  vindictive. 

"Impudent  little  rogues,"  he  muttered,  and  then 
he  added  aloud:  "Yes,  quite  right;  keep  straight 
ahead,  as  far  as  ever  you  can  go." 


ON  THE  EGAD  TO  ZION  175 

"I  told  you  so,"  said  Noah,  triumphantly,  to  his 
comrades. 

"  If  it  is  the  right  road,  then  we  may  as  well  walk 
faster;  the  days  aren't  so  long  now,  you  know," 
observed  Wolf. 

"  Never  mind,  there's  sure  to  be  a  moon  to-night," 
said  Noah,  reassuringly,  "  and  if  there  isn't,  we'll  bor 
row  one  from  the  moon-people  to  use  for  a  lantern." 

"  Are  they  very  tall — these  robbers  ?  "  asked  Leib. 

"  Not  taller  than  we ;  when  they  stand  up,  their  legs 
reach  down  to  the  ground,  and  ours  do  the  same," 
replied  Noah,  speciously. 

"  But  suppose  they  don't  understand  our  language," 
continued  Leib. 

(C  Then  you  must  make  your  sabre  talk  to  them," 
said  Noah,  a  little  maliciously. 

Leib  did  not  remonstrate,  but  began  to  entertain 
some  doubts  whether  he  had  been  altogether  wise  in 
giving  such  prominence  to  his  possession  of  the 
weapon. 

On  and  on  they  went,  with  short  intervals  of  rest, 
through  the  declining  afternoon.  Several  vehicles 
laden  with  garden  produce,  on  the  way  to  next  day's 
market,  passed  them,  and  a  general  feeling  gained 
ground  that  Hirsh  ought  to  justify  his  boast  of  finan 
cing  the  enterprise.  Just  then  a  wagon-load  of  lus 
cious  plums  came  lumbering  on.  Noah  was  spokes 
man  :  "  I  say,  Hirsh,  this  will  be  the  last  of  them." 

"  Last  of  what  ?  " 

"  Of  the  fruit  wagoners.  If  you  don't  buy  of  him, 
we  may  not  get  another  chance." 

The  cart  had  come  abreast  of  them,  and  Hirsh  felt 


176  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

that  unless  he  seized  the  opportunity  he  might  forfeit 
a  good  deal  of  his  popularity. 

"  How  much  will  you  give  us  for  eleven  copecks  ?  " 
he  accosted  the  driver. 

"  Eleven  copecks  ?  "  said  the  man.  "  Oh,  a  whole 
orchard.  Let's  have  the  money."  He  pulled  up,  and 
reaching  down  grabbed  the  coins  Hirsh  imprudently 
held  out  to  him.  Then  he  dived,  chuckling,  under  his 
box,  and  pulled  out  a  greasy  little  paper  bag,  which  he 
threw  to  Hirsh. 

"  These  are  only  stones — I  want  plums,"  said  the 
latter  indignantly. 

"  Quite  so — if  you  plant  them  you'll  have  a  whole 
orchard  in  time,  as  I  said." 

"  But "  began  Hirsh  again. 

"  Now,  that's  enough — skip,"  said  the  man,  and 
raised  his  whip  threateningly. 

Chafing  and  chop-fallen,  Hirsh  skulked  back  to  the 
others.  They  had  witnessed  the  whole  transaction, 
and,  therefore,  it  was  unnecessary  for  him  to  go  into 
the  humiliating  details.  But  if  he  expected  sympathy, 
he  was  disappointed.  From  their  cold  looks  and  freez 
ing  disdain  he  could  gather  that  their  opinion  of  his 
business  capacities  and  knowledge  of  human  nature 
had  sunk  below  zero. 

It  was  on  Leib  that  the  unfortunate  episode  fell 
most  heavily.  He  had  eaten  herring  at  dinner,  and 
was  becoming  reminded  of  the  fact  by  an  ever-increas 
ing  thirst.  Greedily  his  eyes  travelled  to  the  right 
and  left  of  him  on  the  chance  of  lighting  upon  some 
opportunity  of  quenching  it. 

"  Look,  what's  that  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly,  pointing 


ON  THE  EOAD  TO  ZION  177 

to  a  little  rivulet,  the  waters  of  which  were  tinged 
dirty  white  from  the  clay  stratum  of  its  bed. 

Noah  went  close  up  to  it.  Presently  he  gave  a 
great  cry.  "  As  I  live,  we're  getting  there/'  he  gasped. 

"  Where  ?  "  asked  the  others. 

"To  the  Holy  Land.  Does  not  the  Bible  say  it's 
a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey?  And  here  is 
the  milk.  Taste  it,  Leib." 

Leib's  thirst,  together  with  the  clay,  gave  color  to 
the  theory.  Without  another  thought  he  threw  him 
self  flat,  and,  shutting  his  eyes,  took  a  good  deep 
draught  of  the  fluid,  and  before  he  had  time  to  realize 
its  untasty  quality,  a  mouthful  of  it  had  found  its  way 
into  his  interior.  He  scrambled  up  hastily. 

"  Isn't  it  milk  ?  "  asked  Noah,  anxiously. 

"  Yes,  it's  milk,  milk  of  a  kind — I  mean  very  good 
milk;  won't  any  of  you  try  a  drop  ?  " 

But  the  others  had  seen  the  wry  mouth  he  had 
made,  and  preferred  to  take  his  word  in  guarantee  of 
its  excellence. 

The  quartet  of  patriots  marched  on,  a  good  deal 
less  sanguine  and  jaunty  than  they  had  appeared  at 
the  start.  A  slight  tension  also  began  to  manifest  it 
self  in  their  attitude  towards  one  another.  Talk  was 
scarce  and  chiefly  monosyllabic.  It  was  Hirsh  who 
all  at  once  made  up  for  the  long  silence  by  a  tre 
mendous  howl.  The  others  turned  on  him  with 
startled  faces. 

"  Oh,  I'm  killed,"  wailed  Hirsh,  his  hand  to  his  nose ; 
"  I'm  stung  to  death." 

"  Stung,  did  you  say  ?  "  asked  Noah,  eagerly. 

"  Yes,  a  big,  big  bee,"  said  Hirsh,  toning  his  voice 
down  to  a  whimper. 


178  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

A  transfigured  look  came  over  Noah's  face.  "  Aren't 
you  convinced  now  ? "  he  cried  exultantly.  "  Don't 
you  see  we  must  be  near  our  destination?  Where 
there  are  bees  there  is  honey.  I  wasn't  quite  sure 
when  Leib  found  the  milk,  but  here  is  the  honey,  too. 
Come  on,  we  shall  soon  be  there." 

His  enthusiasm  did  a  good  deal  towards  galvanizing 
their  drooping  spirits  back  into  life.  But  only  for  a 
little  time,  for  by  now  the  sun  had  got  down  to  the 
uttermost  rim  of  the  sky;  their  shadows  became  gro 
tesquely  long,  and  their  faces  followed  suit.  They  were 
all  weary  and  footsore,  and  more  and  more  frequently 
misgivings  as  to  the  outcome  of  their  errand  flitted 
through  their  minds.  But  Noah  held  them  on  to  it 
sturdily.  He  had  not  lost  hope;  the  horizon  was  be 
coming  swallowed  up  by  the  outer  edge  of  the  darkness, 
and  that  made  it  appear  less  and  less  distant.  Jeru 
salem  must  be  quite  near  now;  it  surely  could  not  be 
situated  on  the  very  brink  of  the  world,  or  else  it 
would  have  toppled  over  long  ago.  Ah,  there  was  the 
moon,  too — just  a  bit  of  it — and  farther  on 

Noah  uttered  a  shout  of  triumph.  Eight  across 
their  path  lay  a  vast  stretch  of  masonry  in  the  shape 
of  high  bleak  walls  relieved  only  by  a  number  of  little 
windows  near  the  top.  He  did  not  know  that  these 
were  the  huge  granaries  of  Eostock,  which  supply  all 
that  part  of  the  world  with  wheat;  to  him  they  were 
the  battlements  of  Jerusalem,  the  City  of  Promise. 

They  had  come  quite  close,  and  looked  with  beating 
hearts.  There  were  no  gates,  because  the  approaches 
were  all  on  the  other  side.  Then,  after  a  little  pause, 
Noah  whispered  to  Wolf: 


ON  THE  KOAD  TO  ZION  179 

"Now,  out  with  your  trumpet,  and  blow  as  they 
blew  at  Jericho." 

Wolf  tried  hard  to  beat  down  the  sinful  pride  that 
throbbed  through  his  bosom  at  the  -words.  So,  after 
all,  he  was  the  greatest  of  them;  it  was  he  who  was 
going  to  gain  his  nation  entrance  into  their  heritage. 
He  raised  the  trumpet  to  his  lips;  at  first  his  wind 
refused  him  service,  but  then  he  made  a  great  effort, 
and  out  came  a  squeaky,  discordant  noise  that  made 
them  all  shiver.  But  it  did  not  make  the  walls  shiver; 
they  stood  firm,  uncompromisingly  firm.  The  second 
blast,  however,  issued  a  little  more  like  what  a  healthy 
blast  should  be,  and  Wolf  was  just  in  the  middle  of  the 
third,  a  glorious  success.  Noah  could  have  sworn  he 
saw  the  brickwork  near  one  of  the  windows  totter, 
when  suddenly  something  that  looked  like  a  child's 
head  came  hurtling  through  the  air,  struck  Wolf's 
trumpet,  and  drove  it  half-way  into  his  gullet.  Simul 
taneously  came  a  voice  growling  in  very  plain  Kussian : 

"  What  do  you  mean,  you  ragamuffins,  by  startling 
an  honest,  hard-worked  man  out  of  his  sleep?  I  wish 
I  had  had  a  brick  handy  instead  of  that  cabbage." 

The  rest  of  the  harangue  was  wasted,  for  it  found 
not  the  listeners  for  whom  it  was  intended.  These 
latter  were  scampering  away  along  the  road  they  had 
come,  like  so  many  scalded  cats.  But  at  last  they  had 
to  slow  up;  they  hadn't  any  legs  left  to  run  with.  So 
they  crawled  along  without  a  word  or  a  look  for  one 
another.  But  by-and-by,  as  they  were  getting  more 
assured  that  they  had  escaped  the  impending  doom, 
whatever  shape  it  might  have  taken,  little  black 
thoughts  popped  up  in  the  hearts  of  the  trio,  and 


180  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

wicked  little  voices  whispered  in  their  ears.  Some 
thing  about  Noah  they  whispered.  Leib  heard  them 
say  quite  distinctly  that  it  was  through  Noah  that  he 
had  been  nearly  poisoned  with  ditch-water.  Hirsh 
they  told  that  it  was  Noah's  fault  he  had  been  stabbed 
almost  mortally,  and  had  been  rendered  a  pauper;  and 
Wolf  they  asked  whether,  had  it  not  been  for  this  same 
Noah,  he  would  have  got  that  trumpet  rammed  so  dis 
agreeably  down  his  throat.  And,  presently,  Hirsh,  in 
whom  the  desire  for  revenge  was'  strongest,  because 
of  the  preponderance  of  his  wrongs,  made  certain 
overtures  to  Leib  in  a  subdued  voice.  Noah,  who  was 
slinking  along  in  front,  caught  a  word  or  two  with 
ears  sharpened  by  a  nameless  apprehension;  but  when, 
a  little  later,  he  found  that  Wolf  had  also  joined  the 
conclave,  then  he  knew  that  there  was  need  of  quick 
action  to  avert  his  evil  destiny. 

"  We  took  the  wrong  road,  that's  all,"  he  said,  turn 
ing  round  nonchalantly;  "  I  remember  now " 

That  was  as  far  as  he  got.  "  I'll  give  you  something 
to  remember,"  Hirsh  said,  hurling  himself  furiously  on 
the  author  of  his  misfortunes;  "  I'll  teach  you  to  take 
us  on  a  fool's  errand." 

Wolf  and  Leib  were  not  long  in  reinforcing  Hirsh's 
efforts  to  impart  to  Noah  the  afore-mentioned  instruc 
tion;  and  Noah  was  just  considering  if  he  had  not 
better  sham  being  dead,  and  then,  as  his  assailants 
drew  off  to  contemplate  their  handiwork,  make  a  des 
perate  dash  for  life,  when  all  at  once  there  was  heard 
the  shouting  of  many  voices,  lights  were  flashing  in  all 
directions,  and  a  minute  after  the  four  knights-errant 
were  doing  penance  across  the  knees  of  their  distracted 
fathers. 


ON  THE  EOAD  TO  ZION  181 

The  infamy  resulting  from  his  outrage  on  the  Broth 
ers  of  Zion  did  not  attach  to  Noah  for  very  long.  The 
following  week  he  eclipsed  it  by  sending  the  President 
of  the  Holy  Society  for  Preparing  the  Dead  for  Burial 
to  Shmaya's  house  on  the  strength  of  a  premature  an 
nouncement  of  the  latter's  decease. 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT 

HE — that  is,  Solomon — was  certainly  the  oracle  of  the 
place.  His  authority  on  politics,  art,  science,  and  all 
other  things  that  more  or  less  aifected  this  world  and 
the  next,  was  undisputed.  Saturday,  from  midday  to 
the  hour  of  the  afternoon  service,  he  gave  consulta 
tions,  sat  in  his  seat,  and  uttered  revelations.  The 
family-heads  who  were  habitues  of  the  little  place  of 
worship  listened  to  him  open-mouthed  and  open-eared; 
but  occasionally  a  casual  visitor  who  knew  not  of  Solo 
mon's  greatness  would  venture  a  suggestion,  and  then 
the  floodgates  of  Solomon's  wisdom  were  opened,  and 
his  knowledge  came  sweeping  down  in  a  torrent  on  the 
hold  question  is  t,  making  sport  of  his  opinion  in  a 
whirlpool  of  sense-bewildering  information.  I  was  per 
haps  the  only  one  of  his  audience  that  knew  what  a 
humbug  old  Solomon  was;  I,  at  least,  was  aware  that 
what  the  others  thought  the  gleanings  of  a  laboriously 
accumulated  world-wisdom,  was  the  spontaneous  manU' 
facture  of  the  moment.  Solomon  had  a  vivid  imagina 
tion:  nothing  else  could  account  for  the  perversions  of 
the  natural  order  of  things  for  which  he  was  respon 
sible — for  the  alliances  between  hostile  dynasties,  for 
translocations  of  vast  territories,  which  gave  the  lie  to 
all  our  received  notions  of  geography — for  regeneration 
schemes  that  would  shortly  make  the  earth  a  paradise. 
Still,  he  was  entertaining,  and  gave  a  distinct  relish  to 
the  somnolent  Sabbath  afternoons  that  were  apt  to 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT  183 

hang  heavy  on  my  hands.  He  was  the  beadle  of  the 
little  congregation,  and  in  his  unconsecrated  moments 
sold  lottery  tickets.  In  his  after-business  hours  he 
wrote  door-post  amulets.  He  was  also,  for  some  mys 
terious  reason,  the  best  performer  on  the  ram's-horn 
during  the  high  festivals,  and  the  fame  of  his  efficiency 
brought  him  many  pupils.  Otherwise  he  was  a  solitary 
man,  without  kith  or  kin  in  London.  Not  that  he 
seemed  to  want  any  one,  because  he  managed  very  well 
for  himself,  bought  his  own  provisions,  kept  his  own 
house,  which  amounted  to  a  single-roomed  flat  in  Mon 
tague  Buildings,  and  no  one  who  looked  at  the  squat, 
sturdy  figure  and  the  tawny  beard  would  have  credited 
them  to  a  man  of  sixty. 

I  had  seen  Solomon  pose  as  a  demi-god,  and  was  very 
keen  to  know  him  as  a  man.  Strong  individuality  was 
stamped  like  a  hall-mark  on  every  feature  of  his  face, 
and  made  one  forget  its  commonplaceness;  and  the 
expression  upon  it  was  one  not  acquired  in  the  ele 
mentary  school  of  tribulation.  He  seemed  to  have 
been  taught  one  of  those  lessons  which  stock  a  man  with 
sufficient  education  in  character  to  last  him  all  his 
lifetime.  And  if  this  was  mere  conjecture  on  my  part, 
it  was  perhaps  his  habitual  reticence  about  himself  that 
made  me  drape  his  past  with  shadows.  I  did  not, 
however,  despair  of  solving  this  sexagenarian  riddle. 

One  Sabbath  afternoon  I  found  him  sitting  in  solitary 
grandeur.  He  explained  to  me  that  a  domestic  event 
had  happened  in  the  house  of  Stocklinski,  the  congre 
gation  treasurer,  and  that  there  had  been  an  exodus 
en  masse  to  2,  Penny  Street,  in  token  of  good-will  to 
the  new  arrival  and  the  two  parties  responsible  for  it. 


184  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Solomon  and  the  treasurer  were  eternally  at  feud,  be 
cause  the  latter  insisted  on  countersigning  the  receipts, 
which  Solomon  took  for  a  slur  on  his  trustworthiness. 
I  blessed  Stocklinski  for  his  calligraphic  officiousness, 
because  it  gave  me  at  last  an  opportunity  of  a  quiet 
tete-a-tete  with  Solomon. 

"  I  am  surprised  to  see  how  you  bamboozle  your  seat- 
holders,  Solomon,"  I  said  offhand.  "If  they  found 
you  out,  they  would  give  you  the  sack." 

He  smiled  all  along  the  expanse  of  his  strong,  healthy 
teeth. 

"  The  sheep's-heads,"  he  said  disdainfully  in  his 
peculiar  idiom,  half  English,  half  everything  else; 
"they  know  they  have  hands  and  feet,  and  nothing 
more.  Isn't  it  the  same  all  the  world  over  ?  If  you  tell 
a  lie,  and  keep  a  sober  face  on  it,  not  even  Elijah  the 
prophet  would  find  you  out — and  this  is  not  a  congre 
gation  of  prophets." 

"  Well,  Solomon,"  I  answered,  "  I  am  not  much  of 
a  prophet  myself,  but  I  know  when  I  get  hoodwinked, 
and  that  ought  to  take  the  spice  out  of  your  fabrica 
tions." 

"  You  misjudge  me,  my  son,  if  you  think  I  lie  for 
the  mere  pleasure  of  lying,"  he  said.  "  May  there  not 
be  in  a  man's  life  one  bitter  truth,  one  sad  reality,  to 
forget  which  he  dwells  in  a  world  of  dreams  and  imagin 
ings?  And  if  he  deceives  others,  he  is  perhaps  but 
practicing  how  best  to  deceive  himself." 

There  was  a  pause;  I  felt  the  old  man's  rebuke,  but 
I  also  felt  that  it  contained  no  malice — only  sorrow, 
infinite  sorrow,  such  as  my  remark  could  not  have 
caused,  hail  his  nature  been  the  most  sensitive. 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGEANT  185 

"  They  say  you  were  taken  prisoner  at  Sebastopol — " 
I  resumed. 

"  Quite  true/'  he  interrupted.  "  I  came  over  as  the 
Queen's  guest — she  sent  me  an  invitation  through  thirty 
thousand  men,  several  generals  amongst  them — and 
that  is  more  than  most  foreigners  over  here  can  say." 
And  he  smiled  at  his  own  quaint  view  of  the  case. 

My  nerves  began  to  tingle.  Here  was  a  man  who 
had  seen  death  and  destruction  in  the  wholesale,  who 
had  played  skittles  with  his  life  and  limb,  and  survived 
to  tell  the  tale.  I  was  young,  and  so  I  felt  the  strong 
fascination  of  the  man  who  could  talk  so  dispassionately 
of  a  reality  the  mere  conception  of  which  set  my  flesh 
in  a  tremor. 

"  You  were  taken  prisoner  and  conveyed  to  Ply 
mouth,"  I  continued,  in  order  to  keep  the  topic  in  evi 
dence.  Solomon  had  a  habit  of  dodging  the  point  at 
issue.  "How  does  it  feel  to  be  taken  prisoner  in 
war?  » 

A  far-away  look  had  come  into  his  eyes. 

"  Yes,  I  was  brave  in  those  days,"  he  said  slowly — 
"  very  brave;  but  then  I  did  not  care  what  happened, 
and  perhaps  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  be  brave  when  you 
feel  like  that."  He  suddenly  recollected  himself,  and 
went  on  with  a  short  laugh :  "  Ah,  you  want  to  know 
how  I  was  taken  prisoner?  Why,  all  the  little  children 
know  the  story;  I  have  told  it  hundreds  of  times.  Well, 
I  was  stationed  in  the  south  suburbs — Karabelnaya,  I 
believe  they  call  it;  I  don't  know  why,  but  the  enemy 
seemed  to  be  bearing  us  a  special  grudge,  for  it  was 
here  that  their  guns  were  closest  to  the  city  walls — ugly 
looking  iron  brutes  with  impudent,  prying  nozzles.  Oc- 


186  STRANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

casionally  they  suffered  from  a  catarrh,  and  then  they 
sneezed  cannon-balls  and  coughed  fire-clouds,  till  I 
thought  it  was  Sodom  and  Gomorrah  all  over  again, 
only  that  the  righteous  were  no  better  off  than  the 
sinners.  Every  day  the  cursed  things  came  nearer  and 
nearer,  till  we  scarcely  had  any  breathing  room  left. 
I  was  serving  in  Poniatowski's  regiment — a  crew  of 
dare-devils  and  scamps,  who  stole  the  boots  from  each 
other's  feet,  and  ate  them.  I  tell  you,  leather  was  a 
delicacy  in  those  days,  after  the  tallow  had  given  out. 
The  knife  was  grazing  our  throat,  and  Kerkoff,  our 
colonel,  went  about  like  a  dog  with  a  scalded  tail. 

"'Children/  he  said  one  day,  'do  you  see  that 
powder-tower? ' 

"We  saw  it  clearly  enough;  we  had  been  well  ac 
quainted  with  it  for  months.  It  was  the  enemy's  chief 
ammunition  dep6t,  and  there  were  barrels  and  barrels 
of  the  deadly  stuff  in  it. 

"'Well/  Kerkoff  went  on,  'I  want  a  man  to  make 
it  jump;  one  man  can  do  it,  but  he  won't  be  much  good 
for  anything  else  afterwards.  That  will  give  us  a  re 
spite  before  they  bring  up  fresh  supplies,  and  in  the 
meantime  perhaps  we  can  break  our  way  through. 
Who  will  volunteer?' 

"  Then  we  knew  that  one  of  us  had  to  die.  If  there 
were  no  volunteers,  the  lot  would  decide.  So  I  stepped 
forward — I  was  afraid  the  lot  would  miss  me." 

"  You,  Solomon,  volunteered  ?  "  I  interrupted  him 
with  a  start.  "And  for  certain  death,  too?  What 
made  you  do  it?" 

"What  made  me  do  it?"  he  repeated.  I  was  used 
to  his  repeating  my  questions;  it  was  not  the  effect  of 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT  187 

a  laborious  comprehension,  but  of  the  mechanical  habit 
to  which  all  his  section  of  his  race  are  subject.  "I 
had  nothing  to  live  for — the  bullets  avoided  me,  though 
they  slew  right  and  left;  and  when  you  get  tired  of 
waiting  for  a  thing,  you  go  forth  to  meet  it."  He 
broke  off,  and  again  the  far-away  look  came  into  his 
eyes. 

I  pitied  him  in  silence;  I  could  not  do  more — it  is 
presumption  to  comfort  a  man,  if  he  chooses  to  make 
the  shadows  of  his  sorrow  inscrutable. 

"  And  yet  you  escaped?  "  I  said,  to  arouse  him  from 
his  reverie.  "How  did  it  happen?" 

"How  it  happened?"  he  iterated,  looking  up  heav 
ily.  "  I  have  forgotten  how  exactly.  I  am  an  old 
man,  and  it  is  long  ago;  but  I  remember  crawling 
through  the  trenches,  fuse  and  tinder-box  in  hand,  till 
suddenly  I  felt  a  grip  on  my  shoulder,  and  saw  a  young 
English  officer — big  as  Og,  King  of  Bashan — loom  down 
upon  me. 

" '  What  are  you  doing  here? '  he  said  in  Russian.  I 
could  not  answer,  because  his  hold  on  me  was  so  tight, 
so  I  showed  him  my  fuse  and  the  fire  apparatus,  and 
pointed  to  the  powder-tower. 

" f  Oh,  I  see/  he  gasped,  and  his  teeth  came  together 
with  a  snap.  'Blow  us  up,  did  you  want  to?  Well, 
you  are  an  ambitious  man,  but  your  life  before  ours,' 
and  he  pulled  out  his  revolver.  '  However,  I  give  you 
a  chance — will  you  die,  or  surrender?' 

"  And  as  he  was  standing  there,  the  long  rod  of  his 
revolver  bearing  on  me,  I  was  reminded  of  Rabbi 
Nathan  at  the  Talmud  School — how  he  once  stood  over 
me  with  his  cane,  because  I  did  not  know  my  lesson, 


188  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

and  the  lesson  was  a  sentence  from  Mishnah :  e  If  a  man 
consent  to  his  own  death,  unless  it  be  for  the  honor  of 
God  and  our  Sacred  Writ,  it  shall  be  as  though  he  were 
the  cause  thereof,  and  his  blood  shall  be  on  his  own 
head/  And  the  punishment  of  the  suicide,  you  know, 
is  Gehennah — you  jump  from  the  roaring  furnace  into 
the  ice-cold  water,  and  back  again,  and  so  on  for  all 
eternity.  But  that  did  not  matter;  I  had  got  used  to 
Gehennah  and  things  worse  in  the  last  three  months 
of  the  siege — what  with  scorching  my  skin  brown  in 
putting  out  the  blazing  buildings,  and  then  shivering 
with  ague  during  nights  of  sentry  duty.  And  it  all 
passed  through  my  mind  like  a  flash. 

" '  Then  I  will  die,  your  Honor/  I  said.  The  officer 
looked  startled. 

"  (  Well,  you  are  the  first  man  who  asked  me  to  have 
his  brains  blown  out/  he  said.  "  If  I  had  liked  the  job, 
I  should  not  have  given  you  a  chance  of  asking.  Any 
way,  I  am  not  going  to  turn  assassin  to  please  a  Rus 
sian,  even  if  he  is  as  brave  as  you  are. 

" '  But  I  am  a  Jew,  your  Honor/  I  tempted  him. 

"  He  laughed.  '  That  makes  no  difference  in  our 
notions.  I  shall  say  that  you  have  deserted,  and  then 
you  won't  get  shot.7  Then  he  called  the  guard.  Well, 
you  know  the  rest." 

I  was  hanging  spellbound  on  Solomon's  lips.  His 
narrative  was  like  a  rocket  that  has  burnt  itself  to 
ashes  before  one  can  gather  all  its  wonderful  effects. 
The  vacuum  it  left  in  my  understanding  was  almost 
painful.  And  yet  I  comprehended  the  pregnant  terse 
ness,  the  absence  of  adorning,  self-laudatory  detail  in 
the  old  man's  simple  words.  It  was  that  his  adven- 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT  189 

ture,  apart  from  the  distance  of  its  occurrence  and  the 
familiarity  of  its  recollection,,  meant  nothing  to  him. 
It  existed  in  his  mind  not  for  itself,  hut  because  it  was 
the  result  of  some  cause,  and  the  cause  overshadowed 
the  result,  and  effaced  it.  It  is  not  often  that  people 
give  such  an  earnest  of  their  satiety  of  life  as  Solomon 
had  done. 

"  Yes,  Solomon,  everybody  has  his  troubles,"  I  re 
marked,  more  in  answer  to  my  own  thoughts,  and  feel 
ing  half -ashamed  of  my  platitude.  "  The  difference  is 
in  the  way  we  bear  them:  on  some  of  us  the  least 
trifles  fall  like  a  sledge-hammer  blow — to  others  the 
heaviest  tribulation  is  but  a  soap-bubble  of  fate." 

"  Do  not  our  sages  say  the  human  heart  is  less  brittle 
than  iron?  "  he  replied,  with  rather  more  interest  than 
my  truisms  warranted.  "  I  could  tell  you  a  story  of  a 

man "  he  stopped,  and  looked  at  the  round-faced 

clock  that  gave  the  little  balcony  connecting  the  two 
women's  galleries  quite  a  cyclopean  appearance. 
"The  masters  will  not  be  back  for  an  hour — if  you 
care  to  listen  to  an  old  gabbler  like  me,  I  will  tell  you 
about  something  that  happened  years  and  years  ago 
in  my  native  country." 

I  nodded,  because  I  would  not  let  my  eagerness 
betray  me  by  my  words;  true,  I  should  have  preferred 
to  hear  his  own  story,  but  I  had  a  vague  hope  he  would 
speak  of  something  nearest  his  heart,  and  I  should 
catch  a  glimpse  of  his  calamity  through  the  chinks  of 
his  parable. 

"His  father  was  the  richest  man  in  Kadaan,"  Solo 
mon  began  without  ado;  "he  kept  a  drink-shop,  and 
as  it  stood  a  few  hundred  yards  away  from  the  village 


190  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

out  upon  the  open  road,  it  was  the  nearest  to  the 
farmers  and  the  dealers  coming  from  up-country  to 
the  market-town  beyond,  and  the  last  on  their  return 
way  till  they  again  reached  Trenka,  which  is  the  village 
before  Kadaan;  and  this  circumstance  had  a  great  in 
fluence  on  the  custom  of  the  tavern.  Favish,  the  son — 
the  man  of  whom  I  am  telling  you — served  at  the  bar, 
but  he  did  not  like  the  occupation.  The  strange,  bold 
faces  he  saw  across  the  counter  frightened  him.  He 
was  much  more  comfortable  in  his  little  garret,  trying 
to  blow  its  roof  off  with  his  cornet.  When  he  was  a 
boy  of  twelve,  his  uncle  had  brought  him  a  little  tin 
trumpet,  and  that  determined  his  vocation  in  life — a 
klesmer,  a  musician,  he  would  be,  and  nothing  else. 
By  the  time  he  left  boyhood  he  was  already  an  expert, 
and  in  great  demand  at  all  the  festivities  in  the  neigh 
borhood.  By  now  he  was  quite  a  man,  as  reserved  as 
ever,  seeking  his  own  company,  plain-featured  and 
clumsy,  but  ready  to  give  his  heart's  blood  for  those 
he  loved. 

"  One  day  Chananya,  the  glazier-huckster  from  Uld- 
rodno, — who,  by  the  way,  was  also  district  scavenger, 
because  he  picked  up  everything  nobody  else  would 
lay  hands  on, — came  to  Favish's  father. 

"( Mendel/  he  said,  with  his  wheezy  chuckle,  'your 
son — may  he  live  to  be  a  hundred — is  nearly  four  and 
twenty.  It  is  time  he  had  his  own  home  and  hearth, 
like  a  good  Yehudi.' 

" '  Well,  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  you,'  said  Men 
del,  gruffly.  He  did  not  like  holding  a  long  conversa 
tion  with  Chananya — it  was  almost  a  degradation  for 
a  respectable  householder  to  speak  to  him. 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT  191 

" '  Why  no!? '  asked  the  other.  *  He  must  marry,  for 
the  glory  of  the  congregation — and  besides,  I  have 
found  him  a  bride/ 

" '  And  who  is  she  ? '  asked  Mendel,  smiling  in  spite 
of  himself  at  the  absurd  idea. 

"'My  daughter/  answered  Chananya,  hardily,  "as 
fine  and  respectable  a  girl  as ' 

"  But  here  Mendel  flew  in  a  terrible  rage. 

"'What!  you  old  carrion-flayer,  you  with  your  half- 
bred  hussy  of  a  daughter,  you  want  to  get  hold  of  my 
Favish?  Some  evil  spirit  has  driven  you  out  of  your 
senses.  Go  home  and  pray  God  that  you  may  be  re 
stored.  My  son  for  your  daughter ! ' 

" '  And  why  not  ? '  persisted  Chananya.  <  My  daugh 
ter  is  good  and  respectable.' 

" '  Good  and  respectable ! '  shouted  Mendel.  '  What 
do  people  say  of  her — how  many  times  has  she  run 
away  from  you?' 

" (  She  was  starving  with  hunger  and  cold,  and  when 
I  came  home,  and  brought  no  money,  she  went  away, 
because  we  could  not  bear  to  look  upon  each  other's 
misery,'  said  Chananya,  whiningly  yet  glibly. 

" '  And  where  did  she  go  to  when  she  went  away? ' 
jeered  Mendel. 

"'I  don't  know,'  said  Chananya,  'but  the  spirit  of 
the  Lord  is  on  all  her  ways.' 

" '  Then  may  the  spirit  of  the  Lord  be  a  thousand 
miles  hence,'  cried  Mendel,  rendered  profane  by  his 
exasperation. 

"'Well,  we  shall  see,  Mendel — we  shall  see,'  said 
Chananya,  quietly,  as  he  lifted  his  satchel,  and  hob 
bled  off. 


192  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"And  the  old  schemer  knew  what  he  was  saying. 
About  a  week  afterwards,  towards  afternoon  time,  when 
the  tavern  was  most  crowded,  and  Favish  had  to  help 
at  the  bar,  Chananya  came  in — and  not  alone.  He 
brought  his  daughter  with  him;  she  was  holding  him  up 
by  the  arm,  because  he  pretended  to  have  fallen  lame, 
and  that  was  his  excuse  for  taking  the  girl  with  him 
on  his  rounds.  And  what  a  strange  pair  they  made! 
No  one  would  have  guessed  that  they  were  trunk  and 
branch:  she,  lissome  as  a  withe  and  fresh  as  a  myrtle; 
he,  gnarled  and  bent  and  shrunken  like  a  sapless 
bramble-stock.  And  then  their  faces — one  was 
tempted  to  gaze  long  at  the  distorted  grimace  of  the 
old  man,  to  give  oneself  the  luxury  of  the  contrast. 
For  Yenta's  face  was  like  a  summer  storm,  terrible  in 
its  beauty.  The  hair  was  massed  and  black  as  the 
thunder-clouds,  and  her  eyes  could  flash  and  strike  hard 
as  the  lightning,  and  between  the  two  arched  the  broad 
serene  brow  like  the  calm  of  the  rainbow.  And  as  she 
tripped  in,  modestly  and  demurely,  trim  in  her  ankle- 
long  frock  and  neat  apron,  stepping  daintily  on  the 
high-heeled  morocco  slippers,  Mendel  turned  white  to 
the  tip  of  his  nose,  and  cast  an  anxious,  sidelong  glance 
at  Favish. 

"'A  glass  of  vodka — of  your  best,'  said  Chananya. 
throwing  a  silver  rouble  on  the  counter.  Mendel 
obeyed  without  a  word,  and  Chananya  stood  there, 
with  his  daughter  beside  him,  leisurely  sipping  his 
beverage,  instead  of  tossing  it  down  as  usual,  for  he 
could  toss  vodka  with  the  best  of  them.  Mendel  kept 
furtively  watching  Favish;  the  young  man  looked  terri 
bly  disconcerted,  his  hands  seemed  to  be  refusing  him 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGEANT  193 

service,  for  he  dropped  two  glasses,  and  spilt  half  a 
gallon  of  fire-wine.  And  all  the  while  Chananya  stood 
sipping,  fully  conscious  that  every  eye  in  the  room  was 
fixed  on  him  and  his  daughter. 

" e  Mate  haste,  Chananya/  Mendel  burst  out  at  last, 
half -mad  with  anxiety;  6  don't  you  see  you  take  up  the 
room  of  the  other  customers? ' 

"  '  What  of  that? '  answered  Chananya,  looking  him 
full  in  the  face.  '  Have  I  not  paid  my  money  like  the 
others,  and  have  I  not  the  right  to  drink  my  purchase 
fast  or  slow  as  pleases  me? ' 

" '  Well  said,  Melchizedek,  or  whatever  your  name 
is/  broke  in  Christopher  Talka.  He  was  the  tallest 
man  in  the  room,  with  a  big  red  beard,  and  by  trade  he 
was  a  swine-dealer.  e  Let  the  old  man  alone,  Mendel; 
he  can  stay  as  long  as  he  likes/  he  continued,  turning 
to  the  host.  But  everybody  knew  what  Christopher 
meant — it  was  Yenta,  not  her  father,  whom  he  de 
fended.  Many  a  time  he  had  kicked  and  hustled  some 
way-worn  peddler  out  of  the  room,  with  the  words: 
'  Go  and  make  hay  for  your  cow  and  calves  at  home, 
and  leave  drinking  to  your  betters.' 

"  '  Let  us  go,  father,'  said  Yenta,  gently,  while  shoot 
ing  a  quick  glance  at  Christopher;  'do  not  let  us  be 
the  cause  of  quarrel.  If  these  men  are  inhospitable, 
God  will  provide  us  other  shelter.' 

"  Chananya  turned  grumblingly;  he  knew  he  was 
the  hero  of  the  hour,  and  he  wanted  to  enjoy  his 
triumph  over  Mendel  a  little  longer.  But  still,  Favish 
had  seen  Yenta,  and  that  was  the  principal  thing.  So 
they  went  away,  and  all  across  the  courtyard  Favish's 
eyes  followed  them;  but  at  the  corner  Yenta  turned  and 


194  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

smiled  at  him — yes,  unmistakably  at  him.  Then  they 
disappeared,  and  Favish  thought  that  the  dark  had  set 
in  early  that  day,  and  his  legs  tottered  under  him  as 
if  all  the  sinews  had  snapped. 

"  That  is  how  the  mischief  began.  From  that  day 
Favish  was  a  changed  man,  and  his  father  looked  upon 
him  sorrowfully,  for  he  divined  the  reason  of  Favish's 
pale  cheeks,  and  he  cursed  Chananya  from  top  to  toe 
for  the  evil  he  had  brought  on  his  boy.  For  Favish 
neither  ate  nor  slept,  but  all  day  long  he  loitered  about 
the  high-road  looking  towards  Uldrodno,  as  though  he 
were  expecting  some  one  to  come  from  there.  At  first 
he  still  toyed  a  little  with  his  cornet,  but  that  ceased, 
too,  and  the  house  lay  desolate  with  the  silent  misery 
of  its  two  occupants;  for  it  was  two  years  now  since 
Chavah,  the  faithful  wife  and  mother,  had  been  carried 
out  of  it,  feet  foremost.  For  several  weeks  things  went 
on  thus,  while  Favish  was  wasting  to  a  skeleton;  but 
still  Mendel  said  nothing,  because  he  thought  the  evil 
would  die  of  the  disease  of  time. 

"  But  Favish  came  to  him  one  day,  laid  his  head  on 
his  father's  shoulder,  and  burst  into  tears. 

" (  Send  for  her,  father,  if  thou  wouldst  have  me 
live/  he  sobbed.  '  I  have  tried,  but  I  can  no  more- 
send  for  her/ 

"Mendel  waited  till  he  had  gulped  down  his  own 
tears.  '  Son,  dear  son,'  he  said  at  last,  '  conquer  thy 
self.  She  is  not  for  such  as  thou  art;  she  will  not 
ma.ke  thee  a  good  wife.  Let  her  go  her  own  way,  and 
do  thou  go  thine.' 

"'I  cannot,  father/  whispered  Favish;  'she  haunts 
me;  her  face  mocks  me  for  my  impotence,  when  I 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT  195 

endeavor  to  forget.  Oh!  I  am  so  helpless,  and  the 
ache  in  my  heart'  is  killing  me.  Thou  canst  help  me, 
father.  Help  me!' 

" '  I  should  be  helping  thee  to  thy  own  destruction/ 
said  Mendel,  despairingly. 

" '  I  must  have  her,  father,  if  it  be  for  my  destruc 
tion  in  this  world  and  the  next,'  cried  Favish.  '  I  have 
lost  my  health,  my  skill,  everything  that  made  life 
pleasant  to  me.  Yesterday  I  tried  to  play  my  sorrow 
away,  to  be  David  to  my  own  Saul,  but  an  iron  grip 
held  me  by  the  throat,  and  choked  my  breath.  And 
so  it  will  be  as  long  as  I  live.  Help  me,  father ! ' 

"If  it  must  be,  Favish/  said  Mendel,  tremblingly, 
'then  let  it  be,  in  God's  name.  I  will  not  see  thee 
despair,  if  thou  hast  made  me  thy  hope.  Besides,  shall 
I  play  Providence  to  any  man?' 

"  At  these  words  Favish  started  up  with  a  cry  of  joy, 
seized  his  father's  hands,  and  kissed  them  again  and 
again.  Then  it  was  settled  that  Mendel  should  go  to 
Chananya  on  the  morrow,  and  talk  things  over.  What 
passed  between  them  and  what  terms  and  conditions  of 
marriage  they  arrived  at,  Favish  never  knew,  nor  did 
he  care  in  the  fulness  of  his  joy.  The  face  of  Mendel, 
when  he  returned  with  the  news  of  Chananya's  ap 
proval,  was  not  that  of  a  messenger  of  glad  tidings;  the 
furrows  in  his  forehead  had  deepened,  and  his  hair  was 
perhaps  a  tinge  whiter.  But  Favish  saw  nothing,  and 
the  first  time  he  held  Yenta  in  his  arms  he  felt  a 
giant's  strength  come  over  him,  and  was  certain  that 
no  human  evils  could  make  part  of  his  fate. 

"The  news  of  the  marriage  created  a  great  stir  in 
the  neighborhood;  and  when  the  first  wave  of  astonish- 


196  STKANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

ment  had  settled  down,  every  now  and  then  another 
gossip  came,  shaking  his  head  and  talking  under  his 
breath  to  Mendel.  And  the  usual  conclusion  to  what 
they  had  to  tell  was,  'Do  not  take  it  ill,  Mendel;  I 
speak  to  you  as  a  friend.' 

"To  one  and  all  of  them  Mendel  listened  quietly, 
and  at  the  end  he  replied,  '  I  will  not  believe  anything. 
My  son  loves  her,  and  soon  she  will  be  as  flesh  of  my 
flesh.  For  the  honor  of  my  son,  and  for  my  own  honor, 
I  will  not  believe  anything  to  her  shame;  and  now  go 
in  peace.' 

"And  whether  Mendel's  rebuke  offended  them,  or 
whether  there  was  some  other  reason,  few  of  his  friends 
attended  the  wedding,  and  on  Chananya's  side  not  so 
much  as  a  dog  turned  up  to  do  him  honor  in  his  hour 
of  joy.  But  guests  or  no  guests,  Yenta  was  Favish's 
wife  irrevocably,  and  the  weal  and  woe  of  one  was  the 
weal  and  woe  of  the  other. 

"For  some  time  it  seemed  as  though  the  raven- 
croak  of  the  gossips  and  Mendel's  misgivings  were 
doomed  to  disappointment.  Yenta  was  a  model  house 
wife,  and  her  husband  did  not  find  her  wanting  in  the 
matter  of  wifely  affection.  Old  Chananya  kept  himself 
scarce,  and  on  the  rare  occasions  when  he  came  to  the 
hostel,  He  was  quite  respectable.  They  had  found  him 
a  decent  lodging,  and  as  he  had  no  longer  need  to  beg 
or  to  perform  antics  in  the  huts  of  wood-choppers  and 
glass-blowers — for  he  had  been  a  clown  in  his  younger 
<javs — in  return  for  a  night's  shelter,  he  had  managed 
to  acquire  some  self-respect.  True,  it  sat  on  him  like 
an  ill-fitting  second-hand  coat,  but  it  was  there.  Favish 
was  in  high  spirits.  He  improved  wonderfully  in  his 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGEANT  197 

art  now  that  he  had  somebody  besides  himself  to  work 
for;  and  in  the  meantime  the  business  of  the  tavern 
prospered  and  throve,  for  the  fame  of  the  beautiful 
hostess  spread  over  the  country  around,  and  a  good 
many  did  not  mind  going  a  little  out  of  their  way  to  get 
a  glimpse  of  her.  Old  Mendel  went  about  in  a  dream, 
and  held  his  breath,  for  fear  of  an  evil  eye. 

"It  was  about  a  year  after  the  marriage  that  a 
strange  thing  happened.  Mendel  and  Favish  had  gone 
over  to  Trenka  to  see  about  a  new  supply  of  drink- 
stuff  for  the  shop.  They  made  their  bargain,  and,  re 
turning,  found  a  lift  on  a  corn-wagon,  which  brought 
them  home  an  hour  earlier.  And  as  they  entered  the 
courtyard,  they  saw,  sitting  at  one  table,  Yenta  and 
Christopher  Talka,  the  swine-dealer;  and  as  neither  of 
them  was  deaf,  there  was  no  need  for  them  to  have 
their  heads  so  close  together.  Two  full  glasses  were 
on  the  table,  and  Yenta  was  spreading  a  pack  of  cards 
one  by  one. 

"  Favish  gave  a  gasp,  and  stood  still  at  the  door,  and 
Talka  scrambled  hastily  to  his  feet,  almost  upsetting 
the  table  in  extricating  his  long  legs.  Yenta  kept  a 
smiling  countenance. 

" '  Talka  asked  me  to  tell  him  his  fortune,'  she  said, 
looking  at  Favish  without  wincing.  Favish  answered 
not  a  word,  but  passed  on  into  the  stables.  Mendel's,, 
however,  was  the  wisdom  of  maturer  years;  he  saw  it 
was  a  case  where  silence  would  speak  the  loudest,  so, 
despite  the  quaking  of  his  heart,  he  forced  a  jest  to 
his  lips. 

"'What!  a  big  fellow  like  you,  Christopher,  afraid 
of  a  hare  that  has  run  across  your  path? ' 


198  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Talka  twisted  and  turned  awkwardly  from  side  to 
side. 

"  ( Mere  pastime/  he  mumbled,  '  mere  pastime; '  and 
with  a  sheepish  laugh  he  edged  out  by  the  door. 

"All  during  the  rest  of  the  day  father  and  son 
avoided  each  other.  Perhaps  they  were  afraid  of  read 
ing  the  confirmation  of  some  nameless  dread  in  each 
other's  face.  Yenta  went  about  her  duties  uncon 
cernedly;  she  seemed  ignorant  that  anything  uncom 
mon  had  happened,  and  Favish  did  not  tell  her. 

"  But  she  soon  made  it  apparent  that  things  were 
not  with  her  as  they  had  been;  she  became  peevish  and 
uneven  in  her  temper,  and  her  husband  did  not  always 
know  what  answer  he  might  expect.  Sometimes  she 
was  moody  and  thoughtful,  and  at  others  uproariously 
merry.  But  her  laugh  was  not  pleasant  to  hear;  it  was 
loud  and  strident,  almost  like  a  shriek,  and  occasioned 
by  things  that  ought  to  have  made  her  blush  in  her 
husband's  presence.  For  she  busied  herself  more  and 
more  with  the  customers,  and  took  a  great  interest  in 
their  affairs.  So  the  reserve  which  her  prim,  quiet 
demeanor  had  at  first  kept  up  began  to  wear  off,  and 
the  fault  was  none  but  hers.  Was  it  seemly  that  she 
should  stand  leaning  on  both  elbows  across  the  counter, 
drinking  with  the  peasants,  and  mixing  in  their  talk? 
And  if,  now  and  then,  one  caught  her  by  the  hand,  she 
did  not  draw  it  away  in  anger,  as  a  well-behaved  matron 
should  have  done.  Talka  was  invisible  for  a  month  or 
so;  then  he  started  to  come  again,  at  first  rarely,  then 
more  often,  till  that  flaring  red  beard  of  his  was  the 
most  familiar  sight  in  the  public  room.  Chananya, 
too,  became  a  more  frequent  visitor,  and  each  time  he 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGKANT  199 

brought  a  new  rent  in  his  coat  and  a  more  unquench 
able  thirst.  There  he  would  sit,  with  a  besotted  look 
in  his  eyes,  till  he  was  drunk,  and  then  he  got  on  the 
table,  the  empty  bottle  in  hand,  and  danced  the  Cos 
sack  dance;  and  Yenta' s  laughter  rang  louder  than  all 
the  others,  louder  even  than  Talka's.  Mendel  turned 
white  as  death,  and  Favish  said  nothing,  but  went  out 
into  the  stables.  More  and  more  the  control  of  things 
passed  out  of  their  hands.  Yenta  did  all  the  business, 
kept  the  accounts  and  the  money,  and  doled  it  out  to 
them  grudgingly,  as  one  does  to  strangers. 

" '  Make  an  end  of  it,  Favish/  said  Mendel  one  day, 
brokenly.  '  Tell  her  that  Chananya  and — and  the 
swine-dealer  must  not  come  to  the  house  any  more,  or 
I  shall  not  survive  it/ 

" '  Yes,  father/  answered  Favish,  looking  away;  ( I 
shall  tell  her — I  shall  tell  her  of  it  to-morrow.'  And 
to-morrow  came,  and  still  he  did  not  tell  her;  and 
again  it  was  to-morrow,  and  always  to-morrow.  For, 
whenever  he  looked  at  his  wife,  his  accursed  love  for 
her  mastered  him,  and  held  him  tongue-tied.  And  so 
Talka  flaunted  his  red  beard  more  overbearingly  than 
ever,  and  Chananya  drank  and  drank  till  he  fell  under 
the  table,  or  wallowed  in  the  passage  snoring  off  his 
drunkenness,  while  the  peasants  kicked  and  trod  and 
spat  upon  him  as  they  passed  in  and  out.  And  Yenta 
saw  it  and  laughed.  Mendel  saw  it,  too,  but  with  fail 
ing  eyes,  and  perhaps  he  would  have  cried,  had  not  his 
heart  been  beating  too  faintly  to  stir  him  to  tears.  And 
one  morning  it  had  ceased  to  beat  altogether.  Favish 
raved  with  grief;  yet,  through  it  all,  strange  to  say,  a 
vague  feeling  of  relief  came  over  him.  He  was  alone 


200  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

now — there  was  nobody  standing  by  to  count  every  leap 
and  quiver  of  his  heart;  and  his  pain  was  less,  because 
it  was  not  doubled  by  agonizing  that  other  loving 
breast.  And  at  least  he  was  now  secured  against  that 
terrible  'Make  an  end  of  it,  Favish/  for  the  loving 
tongue  that  had  uttered  it  was  now  silent  for  ever. 
Favish  was  very  patient;  he  had  faith  in  the  goodness 
and  fitness  of  things,  and  the  day  would  arrive  when 
Yenta  would  come  to  him  unasked,  and  bring  him  the 
love  a  wife  should  bring  her  husband. 

"And  so  he  waited,  and  for  a  whole  year  nothing 
happened,  except  that  Yenta's  face  more  and  more 
often  wore  a  red  flush,  and  that  she  became  a  great 
expert  in  all  games  of  cards.  Talka  went  in  and  out 
as  usual,  and  brought  her  mysterious  packets,  the  con 
tents  of  which  Favish  was  never  told.  The  only  im 
portant  event  before  things  came  to  a  finish  was  that 
Chananya  was  found  one  day  at  the  bottom  of  a  fox-pit 
with  his  neck  broken.  And  that  was  the  end  of  Cha 
nanya.  Yenta  did  not  trouble  to  observe  the  week  of 
mourning. 

"  It  was  the  Sabbath  after  Chananya's  funeral.  For 
the  first  time  since  many  months  Yenta  had  stood  by 
to  hold  the  candle,  while  Favish  was  saying  the  Sabbath 
evening  blessings  on  the  ensuing  week ;  and  afterwards 
she  had  gone  up  to  him  and  had  stooped — for  she  was 
much  taller  than  he — to  kiss  him.  Favish  did  not 
know  what  was  happening,  and  as  he  went  up  to  his 
room  to  fetch  his  cornet,  he  had  to  grope  his  way,  for 
the  tears  of  happiness  were  blinding  him.  At  last  it 
had  come,  all  that  for  which  he  had  hoped  and  waited 
and  suffered.  That  night  he  had  to  go  to  Trenka  to 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT 


play  at  a  wedding  feast;  for,  as  is  usual  in  that  part 
of  the  country,  the  marriage  had  taken  place  on  the 
Friday,  and  the  feast  was  left  for  the  following  Sabbath 
evening.  Favish  cursed  his  fate  at  having  to  leave 
home,  but  he  had  promised.  And  as  he  walked  along 
the  road,  all  ablaze  with  the  silver  of  the  full  moon,  he 
was  almost  glad  to  be  alone  with  his  happy  thoughts,. 
Half-way  along  he  heard  cries,  and  the  trampling  of 
beasts,  and  when  they  came  nearer,  he  saw  it  was  Talka 
driving  with  voice  and  whip  a  herd  of  swine  in  close 
tether.  As  he  saw  Favish,  he  became  quiet,  and  tried 
to  hasten  the  beasts  by  a  shower  of  blows. 

"  '  Where  are  you  going,  Talka?  '  asked  Favish,  with 
a  sudden  dread  shooting  through  him. 

"  '  I  must  hasten  on  to  Slonim/  answered  Talka. 
'I  want  to  get  there  by  midnight,  so  as  to  give  my 
beasts  a  rest,  and  make  them  look  fit  for  to-morrow's 
market  —  we  have  already  come  a  long  way.' 

"Favish  looked  at  him;  but  Talka  seemed  to  speak 
the  truth  :  his  face  was  red  and  heated,  and  the  hoofs 
of  the  swine  were  trodden  to  the  blood,  for  a  red  trail 
stretched  in  the  direction  from  which  they  came. 

"  Favish  reached  Trenka  in  another  hour;  and  when 
he  came  there,  there  was  to  be  no  wedding  feast  after 
all;  either  the  cook  had  let  the  dishes  burn,  or  the 
bridegroom  had  run  away  overnight  —  something  had 
happened  to  stop  the  proceedings.  Favish  was  very 
pleased;  he  saw  in  it  a  good  sign,  and  he  turned  back 
without  a  word  of  chiding  for  having  been  made  to 
come  a  fool's  errand.  The  ground  flew  under  his  feet, 
for  his  heart  was  light,  and  his  step  was  light,  and 
before  he  knew  it,  he  saw  the  palisade  fence  that  hedged 


202  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

the  tavern  on  one  side  gleam  white  in  the  distance. 
And  as  he  came  nearer,  he  heard  voices  floating  through 
the  still  summer  night — voices  that  he  knew,  for  at 
the  sound  a  leaden  weight  hung  itself  upon  Ms  feet, 
and,  dropping  on  his  hands,  he  crawled  to  the  edge  of 
the  enclosure.  At  the  gate  stood  Yenta,  with  her 
thick  hair  falling  like  a  mantle  around  her  shoulders, 
and  one  of  her  hands  in  Talka's;  the  herd  of  swine 
lay  around  them  in  dead  weariness. 

"'And  so  it  will  be  to-morrow?'  Talka  was  saying, 
gazing  in  Yenta's  eyes.  'Thou  hast  kept  me  long 
enough/ 

" '  I  could  not  come  before  this,  Christopher/  replied 
Yenta.  '  There  was  father— after  all,  he  was  my  father, 
and  if  I  went  away,  he  would  be  cast  out  upon  the 
streets,  and  I  could  not  let  that  be  done/ 

" '  Very  well,  sweetheart,  so  be  it  then/  said  Talka, 
'I  shall  come  to-morrow  night,  and  take  thee  away; 
and  listen,  dear,  get  ready  whatever  there  is,  the  roubles 
and  that  gold  beaker  and  the  silver  candlesticks — the 
broad-nosed  Jew,  what  does  he  want  them  for? — and 
then  we  shall  go  far  away,  to  my  home  in  Croatia,  and 
thou  shalt  eat  swine  flesh  to  thy  heart's  content.  Didst 
thou  like  the  bacon  I  brought  thee? ' 

" '  I  liked  it,  but  I  like  thy  kisses  better,  Christo 
pher/  she  said.  <  I  tried  to  kiss  him  to-night,  in  order 
to  allay  his  suspicions,  and  I  have  a  taste  on  my  lips  as 
if  I  had  been  eating  crab  apples— kiss  me  hard,  Christo 
pher/  and  she  stretched  out  her  mouth  to  meet  his. 

"  Favish  listened  and  looked;  then  life  came  back  to 
his  limbs — if  his  ears  had  been  dishonored,  his  eyes 
were  not  to  be  dishonored,  too;  and  so,  quick  as  light- 


AN  ALIEN  IMMIGRANT  203 

ning,  he  snatched  up  his  cornet,  set  it  to  his  mouth,  and 
blew.     And  he  blew  as  no  man  on  earth  had  done 
before,  or  will  do  after  him;  and  perhaps  the  sound  of 
the  trump  of  judgment  will  ring  out  like  that.     At 
first  it  was  like  the  whining  of  a  wolf's  cub,  then  it 
swelled  like  the  distant  thunder  on  the  hills,  and  at 
last  it  rose  like  the  shriek  of  Satan,  when  he  tried  to 
force  his  way  into  Paradise,  and  got  his  knee  jammed 
in  the  gateway.     At  the  sound  Talka  started  up  with  a 
yell,  and  ran — and  ran  as  fast  as  he  could  waddle  on 
his  fat  haunches.     And,  despite  everything,  Favish  had 
to  throw  down  his  cornet  and  lean  against  the  fence, 
for  the  maniac  laughter  that  shook  him  threatened  to 
burst  his  sides.     Then  he  strode  towards  Yenta.     She 
had  been  standing  there,  white  and  motionless  as  a  pil 
lar  of  salt;  and  near  her  Favish  saw  something  glitter 
ing  on  the  ground — it  was  Talka's  butcher-knife,  which 
he  had  dropped  as  he  scampered  off;  it  was  long,  and 
turned  up  to  a  point  at  the  end  like  his  own  impudent 
nose;  nor  was  it  straight  and  square  like  those  which 
our  licensed  slaughterers  use.     Favish  picked  it  up, 
and  stood  before  his  wife. 

" '  So  thou  eatest  the  flesh  of  swine? '  he  asked. 
"  She  looked  at  him,  but  even  her  eyes  had  lost  their 
power  of  speech. 

" '  Then  I  shall  give  thee  a  feast,  such  as  thou  never 
hadst  in  all  thy  days/  he  screamed,  and  threw  himself 
on  the  herd  of  swine,  and  hacked  and  slashed  and  sliced 
among  them— wherever  his  knife  plunged;  and  he 
shrieked  with  laughter  to  see  the  quivering  carcasses  and 
the  helpless  struggles  of  those  that  survived  to  break 
away  from  the  tether.  And  each  time  he  struck  a  more 


204  STBANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

murderous  blow,  or  made  a  more  deadly  gash,  he  cried, 
'  So  much  for  thee,  friend  Talka.'  Now  and  then  he 
looked  round  to  see  whether  Yenta  was  standing  where 
he  had  left  her.  And  when  he  had  finished,  he  went 
up  to  her,  twined  his  hand  in  her  hair,  and  dragged 
her  along  towards  the  slaughtered  swine. 

"'Eat,  eat/  he  shouted,  'there  is  enough  and  to 
spare/  and  with  one  push  he  sent  her  staggering  on  to 
the  heaving,  tossing  flesh-mountain.     Then,  without 
another  look  or  word,  he. went  out  into  the  night." 
************ 

Solomon  ceased,  and  his  head  fell  heavily  on  his 
breast.  I  dared  not  look  at  him. 

"  And  what  became  of  Favish?  "  I  whispered. 

"What  became  of  Favish?"  he  repeated.  "He  ex 
changed  with  a  conscript,  went  to  the  war,  and  was 
taken  prisoner  in  the  trenches  of  Sebastopol  while  try 
ing  to  blow  up  the  English  powder  magazine." 


HINDELAH'S   CLOTHES-PROP 

THE  household  of  Kolba  Klamm,  of  Yarotsin,  con 
sisted  of  himself,  his  wife  Esther,  his  little  boy  David, 
and  the  drink-devil,  who  was  Kolba's  own  private 
familiar.  The  last  was  by  far  the  most  important 
member  of  the  household,  and  took  up  the  most  room, 
which  is  the  custom  of  drink-devils,  especially  of  those 
who  endenizen  themselves  in  homes  of  small  girth  and 
compass.  And  the  way  in  which  he  had  obtained  the 
right  of  residence  in  Kolba's  house  was  as  follows. 

Years  before  Kolba  married  he  was  by  profession 
a  carter  of  turf  and  timber  to  the  town.  He  used  to 
go  with  his  conveyance  to  the  hill  forest  of  Kastivitch, 
ten  miles  up,  buy  his  cartload,  and  drive  back  to 
Yarotsin.  The  way  between  the  two  places  goes  along 
a  strip  of  high  table-land,  on  the  right  of  which  a 
bleak,  steep  wall  of  slate  rock  rises  massively,  whereas 
the  left  slopes  abruptly  to  the  plains  below.  And  so, 
when  Kolba  drove  his  vehicle  along  the  road  in  winter, 
he  had  the  full  benefit  of  the  keen-edged  frost-wind 
butting  itself  headlong  against  the  rock  barrier  that 
impeded  its  onward  course.  And  with  every  blast 
Kolba  felt  himself  cut  in  halves.  Many  a  time  when 
he  arrived  back  in  town,  he  had  to  be  lifted  down,  stiff 
as  one  of  his  own  logs,  and  then  he  lay  before  the  fire 
till  he  thawed  himself  back  into  life.  And  so  the  idea 
gained  hold  of  him  to  take  a  little  fire  along  with  him 
on  his  journeys,  if  it  was  only  the  liquid  fire  that 


206  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

goes  by  the  name  of  vodka.  The  new  departure 
turned  out  a  great  success — that  is,  for  the  immediate 
purpose  in  hand.  When  Kolba  sat  on  his  box-seat,  and 
heard  the  merciless  wind  whistling  about  his  ears, 
while  the  cold  was  nibbling  with  a  thousand  needle- 
like  teeth  at  his  toes  and  finger  tips,  he  merely  had 
recourse  to  his  bottle,  and  immediately  he  felt  as  if  he 
had  lit  a  blazing  furnace  inside  him,  which  sent  its 
flames  undulating  through  the  length  and  breadth  of 
his  body.  And  when  the  blaze  flagged,  he  poured 
down  a  little  more  fuel,  chuckling  to  himself,  and 
thinking  what  a  clever  fellow  he  was  thus  effectively 
to  foil  the  malice  of  the  elements.  And,  curiously 
enough,  when  the  summer  came,  and  the  sun  was  a 
huge  armory  from  which  red-hot  spears  and  javelins 
hurtled  down  on  the  hapless  wayfarer,  Kolba  became 
scientific,  went  in  for  homoeopathic  notions,  and  kept 
on  with  his  vodka,  because  he  fancied  it  acted  as  a 
refrigerating  medium.  And  so  all  the  year  round  the 
furnace  inside  him  was  ablaze,  and  in  it  was  generated 
the  above-mentioned  drink-devil,  in  the  same  way  that 
salamanders  are  manufactured,  according  to  the  sta 
tistics  of  the  "  Go-and-See-Book,"  by  incessantly  fuel 
ling  a  smelting  oven  for  seven  years  and  a  day.  The 
only  good  the  drink-devil  did  Kolba  was  to  preserve 
his  life,  by  keeping  the  horses  in  the  straight  road  and 
thus  from  sliding  down  the  precipice  on  the  left,  two 
hundred  feet  to  the  bottom,  while  their  charioteer  lay 
snoring  on  his  seat.  And  so  it  was  that  Kolba  had 
now  to  be  lifted  from  off  the  wagon  both  in  summer 
and  in  winter,  and  whereas  before  he  had  met  with 
much  sympathy  and  commiseration,  he  now  began  to 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PEOP     207 

be  looked  upon  as  a  mangy  sheep,  which  might  spread 
contagion  among  the  nock. 

Consequently,  when  he  made  up  his  mind  to  settle 
down,  and  wanted  some  one  to  preside  over  his  home 
stead,  it  was  but  natural  that  the  scope  of  his  choice 
should  be  restricted.  Not  that  he  thought  it  worth 
while  to  grow  grey  hairs  over  that,  because  his  choice 
had  been  made  long  ago,  with  the  consent  of  the 
chosen  party,  and  when  Esther  had  finished  her  con 
tracted  years  of  service  in  the  house  of  Rabbi  Myer, 
the  ecclesiastic  head  of  Yarotsin,  she  at  once  fulfilled 
her  next  contract,  which  was  to  throw  in  her  lot  with 
Kolba's.  The  only  stipulation  she  had  made  was  that 
Kolba  should  give  up  his  open-air  occupation,  and 
follow  a  calling  where  a  man  is  not  thrown  so  much 
on  the  society  of  a  wagon,  two  dray  horses,  and  a 
bottle  of  vodka.  And  so  Kolba  took  again  to  the 
shoemaker's  craft,  of  which  he  was  master,  and  which 
he  had  discarded  from  a  feeling  of  false  shame  at  its 
humbleness  and  the  restraint  it  imposed  on  him. 
Kolba  humored  his  wife,  because  by  that  time  he  had 
become  tolerably  indifferent  to  notions  of  pride  and 
liberty,  and  in  his  sober  moments  he  sat  at  his  last, 
and  made  a  living,  or  would  have  made  one,  if  the 
drink-devil  had  not  proved  so  great  a  discount  on  the 
family  resources. 

No,  Esther's  plan  did  not  work;  the  evil  passion 
had  engrafted  itself  too  deeply  on  Kolba's  system,  and 
required  more  than  a  mere  change  of  occupation  to 
extirpate  it.  But  what  she  thought  of  it  all,  and 
whether  she  regretted  her  marriage,  and  upbraided  her 
adverse  destiny,  no  one  ever  knew.  Esther  refused  at 


208  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

all  costs  to  be  pitied.  Kolba  was  entirely  her  own 
business;  if  he  suited  her,  he  would  have  to  suit  every 
one  else.  There  was  no  other  course  in  the  matter. 
Homes  for  inebriates  and  such-like  luxuries  of  civili 
zation  are  unknown  in  that  part  of  the  world.  The 
afflicted  are  allowed  to  die  of  delirium  tremens,  or 
paralysis,  or  spontaneous  combustion — it  is  so  much 
cheaper  and  healthier  for  every  one  concerned.  Only 
once,  and  then  with  very  good  reason,  Esther  had  made 
a  confidant;  it  was  when  Benjamin  Gatzel,  the  local 
Marshallik's  son,  came  home  for  a  week  after  finishing 
his  studies  at  Charkov  University,  and  his  own  par 
ents  did  not  recognize  him  behind  his  gold-rimmed 
pince-nez  and  under  his  appellation  of  Dr.  Berthold 
Sonnenthal;  it  was  then  that  Esther  had  gone  to  him 
and  entreated  him,  for  the  sake  of  all  he  held  dear 
in  this  world,  and  all  he  hoped  for  in  the  next,  and  for 
the  sake  of  the  days  when  they  had  been  playmates 
together,  to  cure  her  husband,  inasmuch  as  the  fame 
of  the  doctor's  cleverness  in  these  things  had  spread 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

Dr.  Berthold  Sonnenthal  had  looked  at  her  very 
seriously,  and  had  said:  "My  good  woman,  nothing 
but  a  violent  shock  to  the  cerebral  nerve-system  has 
been  known  to  effect  a  radical  reaction  in  these  cases. 
If  I  had  the  necessary  apparatus  at  my  disposal  here, 
I  might  experiment  on  him,  but "  And  the  doc 
tor  shrugged  his  shoulders  in  a  way  which  doctors  have, 
when  they  think  they  have  said  enough  to  say  every 
thing. 

And  Esther  had  gone  away,  feeling  very  vague  in 
her  mind  as  to  what  the  learned  professor  meant  by 


HINDELAH' S  CLOTHES-PROP  209 

the  long  words  in  pure  high  German,  and  knowing 
for  certain  that  all  she  could  do  now  was  to  redouble 
her  supplications  to  the  Healer  of  all  disorders,  who 
has  His  remedies  always  ready  to  hand. 

It  was  on  festivals  and  days  of  rejoicing  that  Esther 
felt  her  lot  sorest,  when  she  saw  the  light  and  gladness 
in  other  dwellings,  and  knew  that  her  own  was  dark 
ened  by  the  shadow  of  an  unspeakable  sorrow,  despite 
the  air  of  unconcern  she  gave  herself — an  air  that 
cost  her  so  much  striving  and  wrestling  of  soul,  and 
that  merely  irritated  the  neighbors.  If  the  cal 
endar  had  only  contained  more  fasts  and  other  national 
anniversaries  of  tribulation,  the  strain  of  living  would 
not  have  been  so  tense,  because  there  would  have  been 
less  occasion  for  her  to  do  violence  to  her  feelings.  And 
just  now  it  was  Purim,  the  holiday  in  honor  of  her 
namesake,  Esther,  the  Queen. 

Kolba  and  little  David  were  sitting  in  the  syna 
gogue,  which  was  crammed  with  a  large  congregation  on 
the  morning  of  the  festival.  Right  at  the  rear  sat 
the  two,  almost  elbowing  the  professional  beggars,  and 
David  wondered  in  his  heart  why  his  father  was  con 
tent  to  rub  shoulders  with  the  riffraff  of  the  town 
instead  of  taking  his  place  among  the  respectable 
house-masters.  He  would  have  asked  his  father,  only 
the  latter  was  so  deep  in  thought,  staring  .before  him 
with  a  far-off  look  in  his  eyes,  and  seemingly  uncon 
scious  of  all  around.  And,  indeed,  Kolba  was  musing 
on  many  things,  so  intent  on  his  meditations  that  he 
had  lost  the  place  in  the  reading  of  the  Megillah,  the 
Record  Book  of  the  great  deliverance  in  the  days  of 
Ahasuerus.  His  scroll  lay  before  him,  almost  where 


210  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

he  had  unrolled  it,  and  the  voice  of  the  Reader,  inton 
ing  the  stirring  events  of  the  great  historical  drama 
in  the  city  of  Shushan,  fell  unheeded  on  his  ears. 
Kolba  mused — he  was  thinking  what  a  wreck  he  had 
made  of  his  life,  and  how  he  might  have  fashioned 
it  far  otherwise.  He  was  wondering  what  had  be 
come  of  the  good  resolutions,  the  virtuous  intentions 
he  had  manufactured  in  such  quantities  at  the  time  of 
his  marriage,  when  he  thought  he  had  fairly  and 
finally  settled  accounts  with  the  past;  and  then  he 
remembered  that  they  were  still  there,  all  of  them, 
only  they  were  waiting  for  their  accomplishing,  and 
the  past  was  still  the  present.  Was  it  then  so  im 
possible  for  him  to  make  one  firm  stand  against  the 
insidious  enemy  that  was  stealthily — nay,  no  longer 
stealthily — undermining  him,  his  home,  his  heart's 
dearest  and  best  ?  God  knew  he  had  tried  and  failed, 
had  tried  again,  failed  again,  till  it  had  become  patent 
to  his  quailing  heart  that  he  was  doomed,  and  that  it 
was  a  destiny  of  his  own  doing  that  now  undid  him. 
What  caused  him  to  think  of  these  things,  now  of  all 
times?  The  sight  of  the  scroll  before  him.  To-day- 
eight  years  ago  his  bride  had  given  it  to  him,  the 
only  heirloom  testifying  to  the  departed  greatness  of 
her  house,  which  traced  its  descent  from  Jacob  El- 
chanan,  the  great  Cabbalist  and  wonder-worker.  And 
Esther  had  given  him  the  scroll  without  waiting  till, 
as  her  husband,  he  might  take  lawful  possession  of  it, 
because,  as  she  said,  it  contained  her  name  so  many 
times,  and  might  act  as  a  charm  against  his  forgetting 
it.  And  he  had  sworn  to  her  that  he  would  make  her 
a  life  which,  for  happiness,  all  the  queens  of  the 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PROP 


world,  living  or  dead,  would  look  on  with  envy.  What 
a  perjurer  he  had  been  —  what  a  traitor  to  himself 
and  to  her.  And  that  was  the  deepest  humiliation 
of  all  —  it  was  left  to  his  own  heart  to  reproach  him; 
the  rebuke  would  never  come  from  her  lips.  Any 
other  wife  would  long  ago  have  slammed  the  door  in 
his  face,  and  have  preferred  the  chance  of  starving. 
She,  she  would  suffer,  keep  silent,  and  die. 

He  looked  curiously  at  the  scroll.  It  was  so  long 
since  he  had  looked  at  it,  and  given  it  a  serious  thought. 
It  embodied  so  many  things  —  a  new  chance  in  life  a 
merciful  Providence  had  offered  him,  a  happiness  that 
might  have  been,  a  thousand  regrets,  a  world  of  im 
potent  despair—  it  was  the  cemetery  of  all  these.  That 
made  it  worth  looking  at  close  enough  to  see  that  the 
blue  silk  which  lined  it  at  the  back  was  getting  faded  — 
it  was  the  same  silk  with  which  Esther  had  edged 
the  corners  of  his  prayer-shawl,  and  of  which  her 
wedding  dress  had  been  made.  The  wedding  dress 
had  long  ceased  to  exist,  but  he  remembered  it  now, 
as  he  remembered  so  many  other  things  —  his  little 
David,  for  instance,  with  his  wan  cheeks  and  big, 
patient  eyes,  which  sometimes  made  his  father  tremble 
when  they  were  fixed  on  him  with  their  questioning 
look;  and  just  then  it  struck  Kolba  that  one  day  the 
dumb  question  would  be  spoken,  and  would  have  to 
be  answered.  And  Kolba  thought  it  was  time  to  pro 
vide  for  that  day,  so  that  he  might  be  able  to  give  an 
account  of  himself.  Well,  he  would  start  to  make 
provision  at  once.  He  ground  his  teeth,  for  he  knew 
what  this  undertaking  meant;  he  knew  he  would  have 
to  go  through  a  great  deal  more  grinding  of  teeth 


212  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

before  it  would  be  at  length  achieved.  He  would 
battle  with  the  malignant  demon  inside  him,  he  would 
exorcise  him,  he  would  rid  himself  of  his  tyranny, 
though  the  revolt  would  shorten  his  life  by  half  its 
span.  And  this  time,  with  the  help  of  God,  the 
questioning  eyes  of  his  little  son  and  his  martyr-wife, 
with  the  help  of  the  silk-lined  scroll — this  time  he 
would  succeed. 

Kolba  looked  up;  the  cantillation  of  the  Megillah 
had  come  up  to  the  enumerating  of  the  ten  sons  of 
Haman,  which  must  be  read  in  one  gulp,  and  leaves 
the  Reader  choking  and  breathless — to  symbolize,  no 
doubt,  the  state  of  the  sons  of  Haman  when  Mordecai 
and  the  children  of  Israel  had  finished  with  them. 
And  before  Kolba  could  realize  the  rapid  lapse  of  the 
time,  the  congregation  was  rising,  doffing  the  para 
phernalia  of  prayer,  and  sallying  out. 

"May  I  carry  the  Megillah?"  asked  little  David, 
timidly. 

Kolba  nodded  assent,  and  David  gleefully  laid  hold 
of  the  scroll,  rolled  it  up  tight,  and  placed  it  in  his 
doublet;  it  was  such  a  pretty  plaything,  and  he  was 
allowed  to  handle  it  but  one  day  in  the  year. 

Kolba  walked  on  with  hanging  head  and  in  pensive 
silence.  He  had  a  task  before  him  at  which  he  was 
no  adept,  and  which  required  careful  preparation. 
Esther  had  just  finished  setting  the  breakfast  things 
on  the  table  when  her  husband  entered,  alone,  because 
David  had  remained  behind  to  exhibit  his  beautiful 
scroll  to  every  one  whom  he  could  inveigle  into  be 
stowing  a  glance  on  it.  Kolba  had  still  not  determined 
on  his  plan,  and  so,  to  save  himself  further  racking  of 


HINDELAIFS  CLOTHES-PBOP  213 

brain,  he  went  up  to  his  wife  and  kissed  her  twice  on 
the  mouth. 

"It  is  our  wedding  day,"  he  explained  awkwardly, 
interpreting  her  look. 

"  To  be  sure — I  had  forgotten,"  she  answered 
quietly. 

"  I  thought  I  had  given  you  enough  cause  to  remem 
ber  it,"  said  Kolba,  in  a  husky  tone. 

Esther  looked  at  him  in  doubt.  Was  it  a  taunt  or 
a  regret  he  had  uttered?  His  next  words  told  her. 

"  Esther,"  he  said,  casting  down  his  eyes,  "  I  have 
made  a  heap  of  ashes  out  of  your  young  life.  No 
wonder  you  do  not  care  to  think  of  the  cursed  day 
that  gave  me  the  power  to  do  it." 

"I  have  not  cursed  the  day,"  said  Esther,  seeking 
his  eyes,  which  avoided  hers;  "it  was  a  day  like  any 
other  that  God  gives,  bearing  in  its  womb  good  and 
evil." 

"  Then  you  must  curse  me,  because  I  was  the  evil 
that  it  bore  you,"  said  Kolba. 

Esther  looked  at  him  in  wonder.  Never  before,  or 
at  least  not  for  a  long  time,  had  his  words  contained 
that  ring  of  contrition.  What  did  it  mean? 

"  Kolba,"  she  said,  "  I  have  never  opened  my  lips  in 
ill  speech  against  you,  whether  in  your  hearing  or  out 
of  it.  I  have  borne  with  you.  I  shall  bear  with  you 
as  long  as  I  have  strength.  It  is  not  my  affliction 
I  grieve  for,  it  is  yours." 

"  Because  in  mine  you  have  already  sufficient,  cause 
for  sorrow,  you  mean.  Esther,  you  shall  not  sorrow 


214:  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Esther  felt  a  sudden  thrill  of  fear.  "  Shall  you 
divorce  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

Kolba  laughed — almost  a  happy  laugh.  "  What  put 
that  thought  into  your  head  ?  "  And  then  his  voice 
took  a  sharp  turn  of  apprehension,  and  he  went  on: 
"  Unless  you  desire  it  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Did  I  not  say  I  would  bear 
with  you  ?  "  she  said. 

"  And  you  shall  find  it  easy/'  said  Kolba,  putting 
all  his  soul  into  his  words.  "  A  resolve  came  to  me 
to-day — straight  from  heaven  it  must  have  come,  for 
I  feel  that  with  it  there  has  been  given  me  the  en 
durance  to  make  it  good.  Esther,  you  know  what  I 
mean,  your  tribulation  is  ended." 

Esther  hung  her  head.  Was  that  all?  Kolba  had 
merely  made  another  promise  that  he  would  turn  over 
a  new  leaf,  and  eschew  temptation.  Ah,  she  knew  his 
promises!  What  was  the  use  of  buoying  herself  up 
with  an  empty  hope,  and  storing  up  for  herself  another 
and  speedy  disappointment?  Kolba  read  the  doubts 
of  her  heart. 

"  Nay,  Esther,  I  do  not  ask  you  to  believe  me ;  only 
look  on,  and  see.  And  yet,"  he  continued  tremulously, 
"  it  would  help  me  if  you  believed,  only  a  little,  that 
I  could  help  myself.  It  would  make  me  doubly 
strong." 

"  How  can  I  trust  you  ?  "  almost  wailed  Esther,  twin 
ing  her  fingers  convulsively.  "  One  of  these  days  I 
shall  trust  too  surely,  and  you  will  deceive  me,  and  my 
heart  will  break." 

"  But  you  shall  not  again  be  deceived,"  cried  Kolba, 
hoarsely,  stretching  out  his  shaking  hand  for  hers, 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PKOP  215 

"you  shall  not,  Esther;  what  would  you  have  me  swear 
by?  Ah!"  his  face  lit  up  as  the  door  opened,  and 
David  bounded  in.  "  Do  you  see,  Esther,"  he  went  on 
exultantly,  "  God  has  shown  me  whereby  to  make  my 
oath — by  his  life !  "  And  he  laid  his  hand  on  David's 
head,  as  though  it  were  an  altar. 

The  boy  looked  up  wonderingly  into  the  faces  of  his 
parents,  but  he  could  make  nothing  of  them,  and  he 
was  too  frightened  to  ask.  He  only  saw  his  mother 
nodding  her  head  in  silence  and  big  tears  welling  into 
her  eyes.  And  when  his  father  and  he  were  sitting 
at  breakfast,  David  wondered  still  more,  for  though 
the  tears  were  still  glittering  in  his  mother's  eyes, 
she  moved  about  so  briskly,  with  such  a  springing  step, 
and  so  joyous  a  smile  on  her  face.  And  that  was  a 
new  thing  to  him,  for  he  had  watched  her  weeping  at 
other  times,  and  then  she  had  sat  with  tight-drawn 
lips,  rigid  as  a  statue  of  stone,  and  gazing  blindly  into 
space.  And  somehow  he  felt  so  much  happier  to  see 
her  weep  in  this  fashion,  and  the  dry,  coarse  bread  he 
was  eating  tasted  as  though  it  had  an  inch-thick  layer 
of  honey  upon  it. 

Presently  Kolba  got  up,  and  said  to  his  wife,  a  little 
shamefacedly  and  with  subdued  voice:  "We  are  mak 
ing  a  poor  festival  of  this  day;  and  the  fault  is  not 
yours,  Esther.  There  was  no  need  for  us  to  be  up 
to  our  neck  in  poverty ." 

"I  am  rich,  in  riches  that  pass  all  counting,"  re 
turned  Esther;  "there  was  more  gold  in  the  words 
you  spoke  to  me  than  is  in  all  the  world's  treasuries, 
and  that  makes  me  content  with  my  poor  estate." 

"That   is    neither   here   nor   there,"   said   Kolba, 


216  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

cheerily;  "this  is  a  day  which  must  be  celebrated  in 
all  due  honor." 

"  Would  that  we  could— but  how  ?  "  asked  Esther. 

"  Leave  that  to  me,  incredulous  one,"  smiled  Kolba, 
stroking  her  cheek;  "I  am  going  up  to  the  Big  House 
to  ask  payment  for  the  pair  of  riding-boots  I  made  for 
the  farmer.  At  noon  to-day  I  was  to  come — I  am 
belated  already.  I  shall  go  forthwith  and  return 
quickly." 

A  great  fear  rose  in  Esther's  bosom:  Kolba  would 
have  money  at  his  disposal — much  money,  for  in  his 
better  moments  he  was  a  skilful  workman,  and  people 
paid  him  well.  And  this  would  be  the  first  trial  his 
determination  would  encounter. 

"Let  me  go  with  you,"  was  on  her  lips;  but  she 
checked  the  words.  Had  he  not  asked  her  to  believe 
him,  and  was  she  to  let  him  think  that  her  faith  in 
him  did  not  reach  beyond  the  threshold  of  their  dwell 
ing?  That  would  only  defeat  her  own  ends. 

And  so  Kolba  went  alone  to  the  Big  House,  where 
the  farmer  dwelt,  got  the  six  roubles,  the  stipulated 
price,  and  started  on  his  way  back.  He  was  going 
to  take  home  all  that  was  needed  for  the  feasting — 
a  pound  of  calf-liver,  almonds  and  raisins,  flour  and 
sugar  for  the  fritters,  and  all  the  other  delicacies  that 
were  the  order  of  the  day.  But  nothing  to  drink — 
not  a  thimbleful;  that  was  why  he  was  making  the 
long  detour  to  avoid  the  drink-shop  at  the  outskirts  of 
the  town,  and  .  .  .  what  was  the  meaning  of  this — 
was  it  his  evil  genius  that  had  befooled  him  so  ?  For 
here  he  was  right  before  the  tavern — a  dozen  steps 
would  take  him  to  the  door,  and  the  voices  of  the 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PROP     217 

roysterers  inside  could  be  heard  quite  clearly.  Kolba's 
heart  grew  bigger  and  bigger  in  his  bosom,  and 
thumped  like  a  sledge-hammer;  the  dew  of  fear  stood 
in  thick  drops  on  his  forehead,  and  he  could  feel 
himself  growing  white  as  chalk.  With  a  tremendous 
wrench  he  tore  himself  from  the  spot,  staggered  a  few 
paces  with  tottering  knees,  and  just  as  he  was  about 
to  take  the  first  long  stride  that  would  bring  him  into 
safety,  he  heard  a  shout  of  some  one  calling  him  by 
name.  He  tried  to  lift  his  hands  in  order  to  stop  his 
ears,  but  he  seemed  to  have  no  arms,  and  the  sleeves  of 
his  coat  were  hanging  empty;  and  soon  another  voice 
joined  the  first  in  calling  him,  and  then  another,  until 
a  dozen  throats  were  shouting:  "Kolba,  come  and 
drink  with  us !  " 

Like  a  hunted  deer  he  gazed  at  the  faces  thronging 
the  window  of  the  tavern  and  at  the  hands  that  beck 
oned  him  on.  He  knew  these  men;  they  were  Chas- 
sidim,  whose  prototypes  were  the  Pharisees  of  old,  and 
who  believe  in  a  religion  made  up  of  long  caftans, 
broad  waist-girdles,  and  love-locks,  and  play  antics 
generally  with  the  grand  old  faith  of  Sinai. 

"  Come,  Kolba,  let  us  see  how  you  can  drink,"  called 
one  of  them. 

A  wild  rage  came  over  Kolba  at  these  words;  so  that 
was  to  what  he  had  sunk — to  make  sport  for  these 
madmen  in  their  drunkenness.  But  his  anger  was  not 
so  much  against  the  men  as  against  himself,  for  the 
impotence  to  resist  that  was  creeping  over  him,  and  he 
prayed  that  God  might  either  send  the  prophet  Elijah 
quickly  to  bear  him  out  of  temptation  in  his  chariot, 
or  to  strike  him  dead  in  the  instant.  So  he  stood  there 


218  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

shaking  his  head  in  idiotic  fashion,  and  mechanically 
the  words  came  from  him :  "  No,  no,  I  have  left  off 
drinking.  I  told  Esther  so." 

"  Nonsense,  Kolba,"  cried  another,  "  you  are  only 
beginning;  you  are  quite  young  yet;  if  you  go  on 
drinking  till  you  are  eighty,  you  will  live  to  be  an 
old  man." 

Kolba  listened  in  silence  to  the  jeering,  and  only 
went  on  shaking  his  head.  That  exasperated  the 
Pietists;  Kolba's  refusal  was  a  distinct  breach  of  the 
observances  of  the  day. 

"  Heathen,  apostate,  abomination ! "  rang  from  all 
lips.  But  above  all  the  rest  was  heard  the  voice  of 
humpback  Issar,  the  most  rabid  and  fanatical  of  them 
all. 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  it  is  an  obligation  on  us 
to  drink  and  be  drunk  this  Purim  Day  till  one  cannot 
distinguish  between  Haman  and  Mordecai?  Gentile! 
Do  you  want  to  bring  ruin  on  the  congregation  by  your 
irreverence  ?  " 

A  trembling  like  that  of  ague  seized  Kolba;  he  felt 
the  iron  chains  with  which  he  had  fettered  his  desire 
were  snapping  one  by  one,  and  that  presently,  if  no 
help  came,  his  evil  instinct  would  break  out  and  bear 
everything  before  it.  "  God,  if  not  on  me,  have  mercy 
on  my  wife  and  child,"  he  prayed  with  his  last  remain 
ing  strength. 

Issar  watched  him,  fuming.  "  Oh,  I  have  it,"  he 
muttered  to  himself.  Quickly  he  snatched  up  a  glass 
of  liquor,  and  held  it  out  of  the  window. 

"Look,  Kolba,"  he  shouted,  "the  best  grog  ever 
brewed;  look  at  the  vapor  o'f  it — like  the  incense  of 
myrrh!" 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PROP  219 

Kolba  looked  and  the  odor  of  the  beverage  came 
wafted  to  him,  and  drew  him  on  with  unseen  tentacles, 
as  the  scent  of  blood  draws  on  the  wild  beast.  A 
heave  and  a  tremor  shook  him  from  head  to  foot;  he 
cast  a  mad,  frightened  look  to  where  he  knew  his  wife 
Esther  was  waiting  for  him  in  their  dwelling,  and  with 
a  groan  that  to  his  own  ears  was  like  the  groan  of  his 
good  angel  writhing  in  mortal  torment,  he  flung  him 
self  through  the  open  door  of  the  tavern,  knowing  that 
it  was  as  the  entrance  to  a  living  grave. 

Kolba  was  right;  Esther  was,  indeed,  waiting 
anxiously  for  his  return,  listening  for  the  sound  of  his 
footsteps,  with  her  heart  in  her  ears.  David  was  keep 
ing  her  company,  and  had  just  finished  blunting  his 
dinner  appetite  by  continuing  on  the  scraps  left  over 
from  breakfast.  After  that  he  sat  musing  for  a  while. 

"  It  is  just  a  year  ago,"  was  the  upshot  of  his  rumina 
tions. 

"  What  is  ?  "  asked  Esther. 

"  Don't  you  remember  ?  I  mean  when  father  came 
home,  took  the  beautiful  suet-cake  and  the  Haman's- 
hats  you  had  prepared,  and  dashed  them  on  the  floor, 
and  afterwards  poured  the  beet-root  soup  out  of  the 
window,  although  you  had  taken  three  eggs  to  make  it 
mellow.  Why  did  he  do  that  ?  You  would  never  tell 
me  when  I  asked." 

Esther's  hand  fluttered  to  her  heart.  "  Because  it 
is  not  good  that  little  folks  should  ask  questions  ex 
cept  at  the  Passover  table/'  she  said  with  a  wan  smile ; 
"  still,  this  time  I  shall  answer  you.  It  was  a  jest  of 
your  father's — nothing  more.  You  know  it  is  lawful 
to  play  jests  on  one  another  on  Purim  feast." 


220  STBANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  But  that  was  a  jest  to  weep  over,  not  to  laugh  at/7 
said  David  with  a  pout;  "I  hope  father  won't  take 
it  into  his  head  to  jest  like  that  to-day.  It  makes  me 
hungry  again  merely  to  think  of  it." 

"His  mind  is  not  bent  on  jests  to-day,"  said  Esther; 
"  he  was  very  serious  this  morning." 

But  despite  her  reassuring  words,  Esther  felt  a 
shiver  of  doubt.  Had  Kolba  been  really  serious? 
She  dared  not  think,  she  could  only  hope,  and  go  on 
praying  for  it. 

Little  David  had  fallen  back  into  his  reverie. 

"And  then  there  is  another  thing,  mother,"  he 
blurted  out  suddenly,  "  it  is  quite  a  long  story,  and 
it  happened  about  two  months  ago.  You  had  sent  me 
up  to  bed,  as  you  always  do  when  you  are  waiting  up 
for  father;  but  that  night  you  had  such  a  sad  look 
on  your  face  that  I  could  not  fall  asleep  for  thinking 
of  it.  And  then  I  heard  father  come  in,  and  imme 
diately  he  began  to  shout  and  stamp  till  I  got 
frightened  and  crept  downstairs  to  see  what  was  the 
matter,  and  through  the  chink  of  the  wall  I  saw  father 
had  one  hand  in  your  hair,  and  the  other  he  had 
lifted  up  like  this — as  if  to  strike  you  on  the  face, 
and  you  were  saying:  e Kolba,  not  that,  not  that — 
everything  but  that ';  and  then  he  let  go,  and  crouched 
down  in  the  corner,  and  sat  weeping.  And  at  that 
I  got  still  more  terrified,  and  quickly  went  back  to  bed, 
and  pulled  the  coverlet  over  my  ears.  Was  that  an 
other  of  father's  jests  ?  " 

And  the  little  fellow  paused,  out  of  breath  with 
the  hurry  of  his  words,  and  sat  anxiously  gazing  at  his 
mother  for  an  answer.  But  she  sat  gazing  back  at 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PKOP  221 

him,  with  both  hands  to  her  heart  this  time,  and  at 
last  she  gasped :  "  What  are  you  saying  ?  You  are 
mad;  it  is  not  what  you  saw,  you  only  dreamt  it,  be 
cause  you  had  not  said  your  night-prayer  properly." 
And  then  her  voice  broke,  and  with  a  sob  she  con 
cluded  :  "  Believe  me,  little  son,  it  is  not  true,  you 
only  dreamt  it." 

David  kept  his  lips  tightly  together,  for  fear  they 
should  frame  another  question — his  questions  received 
such  strange  answers.  But  Esther's  heart  was  in  a 
wild  panic.  So  it  was  coming  at  last,  what  she  had 
been  trying  to  prevent,  knowing  it  to  be  an  impossible 
task — her  son  was  beginning  to  find  out  things  for 
himself.  All  through  her  troubles  this  had  been  her 
only  consolation — her  child  was  blessedly  ignorant  of 
the  black  shadow  that  spread  its  wings  over  their 
home.  The  thought  which  had  that  morning  come  to 
Kolba  as  an  inspiration  had  been  an  ever-present  in 
cubus  upon  her  mind.  One  day  her  son  would  stand 
before  her  and  ask :  "  Woman,  what  is  this  thing  you 
have  given  me  for  a  father  ? "  And  she  had  often 
prayed  that  it  might  be  at  her  graveside  her  son 
should  ask  that  question.  0  God  in  Heaven,  had  Kolba 
been  serious?  If  he  had,  why  was  he  not  back  from 
his  errand?  It  was  two  hours'  journey  to  and  from 
the  Big  House,  and  he  had  been  gone  three.  But  he 
might  have  had  to  wait,  he  might  be  chatting  with  an 
acquaintance,  a  thousand  things  might  have  happened 
to  delay  him;  let  it  be  ten  thousand — only  not  that 
one. 

So  the  afternoon  wore  on  apace,  it  was  three  o'clock 
already,  and  Esther  waited  on,  sometimes  with  a  blank 


222  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

heart  and  brain,  and  sometimes  feeling  she  must  burst 
with  the  fulness  of  her  fear  and  impatience.  But  she 
did  not  show  it  by  so  much  as  the  twitching  of  a  mus 
cle.  She  might  have  gone  forth  to  meet  him,  to  look 
for  him,  only  she  was  too  proud  to  let  people  know  of 
her  anxiety,  and,  moreover,  it  would  have  been  an  ill 
way  of  showing  the  faith  and  trust  she  had  promised 
her  husband.  Suddenly  her  eyes  fell  on  David,  who 
sat  there  squirming  with  the  restlessness  of  youth, 
and  a  thought  struck  her. 

"Why  do  you  not  go  out?"  she  asked. 

"  I  am  afraid  to  leave  you — you  look  so  lonely,"  said 
the  seven-year-old  sturdily. 

"  Then  I  shall  tell  you  what  you  are  to  do ;  go  here 
and  there  about  the  town,  and  make  search  for  your 
father;  but  when  you  see  him,  don't  say  that  I  sent 
you,  unless  he  asks — do  you  understand  ?  " 

David  nodded,  and  jumped  up  merrily;  after  all  his 
heart  was  as  yet  too  small  to  have  room  for  many 
troubles,  and  the  sun  was  shining  outside  for  all  he 
was  worth. 

"  What  is  that  bulging  in  your  doublet  ? "  asked 
Esther. 

"It  is — it  is  only  the  Megillah  Scroll,"  he  said 
with  a  quaver;  "I  shall  be  so  careful  of  it,  mother." 
He  was  under  great  apprehension  that  she  would  take 
it  from  him,  and  replace  it  in  its  usual  receptacle. 
But  Esther  only  flushed  with  joy;  it  was  a  happy  omen; 
under  the  auspices  of  this  wedding-gift  of  hers,  which 
she  had  tendered  her  bridegroom  in  love  and  hope  and 
happiness,  it  was  fitting  that  her  son  should  thus  go 
forth  on  the  errand  that  would  bring  back  to  her  the 


HINDELAIFS  CLOTHES-PKOP     223 

promise  of  all  these  things,  or  annihilate  them  for 
ever. 

So  David  sallied  out  into  the  balmy  spring  after 
noon,  feeling  as  proud  of  his  mission  as  any  ambas 
sador  sent  to  adjust  the  international  interests  of  a 
continent.  The  secrecy  which  his  mother  had  enjoined 
on  him  seemed  to  hint  that  there  was  need  of  great 
tact  and  diplomacy  in  the  business.  To  scour  the 
neighborhood  for  some  one,  and  then,  when  you  meet 
him,  to  pretend  that  the  meeting  was  the  result  of 
quite  a  fortuitous  conjuncture  of  circumstances,  was 
a  new  experience  to  our  emissary.  And  so,  having 
determined  to  enjoy  the  situation  to  the  utmost,  he 
asked  the  first  man  he  came  across  if  by  any  chance  he 
had  seen  his  father.  The  man  shook  his  head  surlily, 
and  passed  on.  Nothing  daunted,  David  asked  the 
second — in  the  little  town  everybody  of  course  knew 
everybody  else,  and  could  give  an  account  of  his  neigh 
bor's  genealogy  back  into  dim  generations.  The 
second  man  took  the  question  more  kindly,  going  to 
the  extent  of  shrugging  his  shoulders,  and  saying: 
"  Better  for  you  you  had  never  been  born." 

That  was  a  curious  way  of  giving  the  desired  infor 
mation,  thought  David;  the  man  must  be  mad  to  talk 
so  absurdly.  And  then,  laughing  at  his  foolishness, 
he  straightway  accosted  another  passer-by.  This  one, 
at  least,  was  a  sensible  man,  and  he  told  David  that 
he  would  find  his  father  in  the  hostel  just  outside  the 
town.  David  made  a  sour  face,  because  it  meant  a  good 
hour's  journey  for  him.  Still,  there  was  nothing  to 
be  done,  so  he  pulled  up  his  stockings,  and  set  out 
with  a  stout  heart.  Presently  he  came  to  the  fishing 


224:  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

weir,  where  the  frogs  used  to  sit  and  tell  one  another 
fairy  tales  in  the  cool  of  the  summer  evenings.  There 
were  no  frogs  about  just  then,  but  Grandmother  Hin- 
delah  was  washing  what  she  called  her  clothes  outside 
her  little  loam  hut,  two  or  three  stones'  throw  from 
the  pond.  David  was  shocked — the  wicked  old  woman, 
to  be  washing  clothes  on  a  festival,  when  no  one 
thought  of  doing  any  work.  No  wonder  the  children 
called  her  the  Machsheifah,  the  witch.  Poor  old  Hin- 
delah!  If  the  youngsters  only  knew  what  the  older 
folks  knew,  they  would  not  hoot  her,  and  bespatter  her 
with  mud  when  no  grown-up  is  looking.  Ever  since 
her  only  son  had  been  struck  dead  at  her  feet  by  the 
lightning,  as  they  trudged  home  from  the  fair  through 
the  roaring  storm,  twenty  years  ago,  the  world  had 
lost  its  shape  and  symmetry  in  her  eyes;  everything 
seemed  topsy-turvy,  and  times  and  seasons  were  all 
jumbled  up  together.  So  how  was  she  to  know  it  was 
Purim,  since  no  one  took  the  trouble  to  tell  her? 

David  stopped  and  watched  her  for  a  while  at  her 
task.  Then  his  righteous  indignation  got  the  upper 
hand,  and  he  called  out:  "Witch  Hindelah,  you  will 
wash  yourself  into  Gehennom  for  your  sins." 

The  old  woman  worked  on  stolidly. 

"  Witch  Hindelah,  your  hands  will  drop  off  your 
wrists,  so  that  you  can  never  wash  any  more,"  he  called 
again. 

There  was  still  no  answer,  and  then  David  became 
naughty,  and  his  mind  was  filled  with  evil  thoughts. 
He  would  show  the  witch  what  it  was  to  treat  him 
with  contemptuous  indifference.  A  few  yards  from 
him  stood  Hindelah's  famous  washing  pole,  rearing  its 


HIKDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PROP     225 

smooth-planed  height  to  the  heavens.  It  was  famous 
for  the  mysterious  affection  which  Hindelah  bore  it; 
not  for  love  or  money  could  any  of  the  housewives 
procure  its  services  on  washing  day.  Hindelah  guarded 
it  zealously,  and  when  she  did  not  use  it  herself,  it 
was  stowed  away  safely  in  the  wattle  loft  of  her  habi 
tation.  Hindelah  had  herself  forgotten  why  it  was 
so  precious  to  her;  only  sometimes,  in  her  clearer 
intervals,  she  connected  it  vaguely  with  her  dead  son. 
Probably  it  was  he  who  had  brought  it  home  to  her 
from  the  forest,  and  had  trimmed  and  planed  it  so 
neatly;  and  this  was  all  the  legacy  he  had  left  his 
mother.  But  the  thing  that  recommended  it  to  the 
attention  of  the  youngsters  of  the  town  was  the  beau 
tiful  two-pronged  fork  at  the  top,  with  which  it  gripped 
the  clothes-line  and  steadied  it  in  the  strongest  bluster 
of  the  north  wind.  With  a  strip  of  india-rubber  tub 
ing  fastened  to  each  prong  it  would  make  a  splendid 
sling — as  good  as  that  wherewith  David's  namesake 
slew  the  giant  Goliath.  But  Hindelah  had  suspicions 
of  their  base  designs,  and  kept  a  sharp  lookout  when 
any  of  the  marauders  were  in  the  neighborhood.  David 
she  was  not  much  concerned  about — he  was  too  small 
and  skinny  to  do  harm  to  her  treasure;  and  so,  when 
she  looked  up,  and  saw  him  tugging  the  pole  out  of  the 
ground  with  all  the  strength  of  his  little  arms,  she  set 
up  a  desperate  yell,  and  came  hobbling  to  the  rescue, 
her  eyes  as  big  as  saucers,  and  her  face  the  color  of 
purple.  David  quickly  sprang  back,  and  made  off  to 
a  safe  distance,  for  he  had  never  seen  the  witch  look 
so  terrible;  and  there  he  stood  laughing  at  her  grim 
aces  and  the  mien  of  impotent  malice  that  contorted 


226  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

her  features.  At  last  Hindelah  found  her  breath 
again,  and  began  to  talk  in  short  little  gasps,  which 
made  David  feel  she  was  spitting  her  words  in  his  face. 
And  the  louder  he  laughed  the  swifter  and  more  con 
fused  grew  her  speech,  and  therefore  David  was  aston 
ished  to  hear  himself  catch  the  drift  of  one  of  her 
sentences  quite  distinctly. 

"  The  prop,  the  prop,  you  shall  have  it  upon  a  day, 
but  more  of  it  than  you  shall  want,"  she  mumbled. 

This  was  getting  uncanny,  and  David's  laughter  died 
on  his  lips,  and  he  hurried  away,  casting  back  shy, 
anxious  glances  at  Hindelah,  who  stood  shaking  her 
forefinger  threateningly.  And  so  he  was  very  pleased, 
when,  a  little  way  further  up,  he  came  across  a  group  of 
his  schoolfellows,  playing  the  game  of  odd  and  even 
with  nuts,  as  is  the  custom  of  the  day.  David  had  no 
nuts  with  him,  and  so  he  had  to  stand  by,  and  look 
on  idly  and  curiously.  Then,  as  the  excitement  of  the 
gambling  gained  hold  of  him,  he  suddenly  remembered 
that  he  had  a  ball  of  glazier's  putty  in  his  pocket, 
which  might  be  negotiable  for  barter.  So  he  went  up 
to  one  of  the  boys,  and  made  overtures. 

"  Simcha,  give  me  twenty  nuts  for  this." 

Simcha,  whose  father  was  the  treasurer  of  the  con 
gregation,  looked  him  up  and  down,  and  answered: 
"In  the  first  place  I  do  not  want  to  change  my  nuts 
for  your  putty,  which  you  have  stolen,  and  secondly, 
if  you  had  a  million  nuts,  I  would  not  allow  you  to  play 
with  us." 

David  kept  his  temper,  despite  the  false  charge  and 
the  insolent  rebuff. 

"Why  not,  Simcha?"  he  asked  quietly. 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PROP  227 

"  Because  your  father  is  a  drunkard,  and  beats  your 
mother,  and  it  is  not  becoming  that  respectable  chil 
dren  should  associate  with  the  son  of  such  a  one." 

"  My  father  a  drunkard — beats  my  mother  ? " 
echoed  David,  in  blazing  anger.  "That  is  the  last 
word  you  shall  speak  for  a  long  time."  And  the  next 
moment  he  had  Simcha  by  the  throat,  and  Simcha, 
who  was  an  arrant  coward,  began  to  scream  for  help, 
although  he  stood  a  head  taller  than  his  adversary. 
And  presently  all  the  boys  came  rushing  to  Simcha's 
assistance,  because  a  rich  man's  son  has  always  more 
friends  than  a  poor  man's,  and  it  would  have  gone 
hard  with  David,  but  just  then  a  howl  like  that  of  a 
mad  wolf  rang  out,  and  when  the  frightened  children 
gazed  in  the  direction  whence  it  came,  they  saw  a 
fearful  thing  bearing  straight  down  upon  them — its 
tongue  lolling  out  of  its  mouth,  its  hair  a  bushy  tangle 
about  the  face,  and  even  at  that  distance  they  could 
see  the  eyes  gleaming  blood-red.  But  the  greatest 
horror  of  all  was  that  the  monster  brandished  in  its 
hand  a  long  pole,  which  could  be  none  other  than 
Grandmother  Hindelah's  clothes-prop.  However,  they 
did  not  stop  to  make  sure,  but  scampered  off  in  wild 
pell-mell,  shrieking  and  squeaking  like  a  drove  of 
suckling  pigs  under  the  lash  of  the  driver. 

David  had  been  so  busy  throttling  Simcha  that  he 
had  no  time  for  more  than  a  moment's  glance  at  the 
apparition,  but  when  he  saw  the  others  take  to  their 
heels,  he  ran  likewise,  his  only  thought  to  escape  the 
danger  that  came  careering  on  behind  him.  Now, 
whether  he  had  not  sufficient  start,  or  because  his  legs 
were  shorter  than  those  of  the  others,  he  gradually  saw 


22s         STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

himself  lagging  in  the  rear,  completely  outdistanced 
by  his  fellow-fugitives.  And  all  the  while  the  lum 
bering  horror  at  his  back  was  coming  nearer  and  nearer 
— he  could  feel  the  ground  tremble  under  its  tread — he 
thought  he  already  felt  the  tip  of  the  pole  in  the  small 
of  his  back,  and  with  a  sob  of  despair  he  thought  that 
only  one  chance  of  safety  remained  to  him — to  swerve 
aside  and  let  the  pursuer  race  past  him  in  the  wake 
of  the  others,,  because  if  he  came  up  with  them,  he 
would  have  more  victims.  So  he  suddenly  took  a  sharp 
curve  to  the  left,  and  a  moment  after  he  saw  the 
monster  lurch  heavily  past  him  with  the  impetus  of 
its  own  weight,  and  already  he  was  thanking  God  for 
his  deliverance,  when,  horror  of  horrors,  he  heard  the 
pursuing  tread  stop,  recover  itself,  and  veer  off  in 
the  direction  he  was  taking.  Mad  with  fear,  he  stag 
gered  on,  panting,  his  heart  fluttering  into  his  throat 
and  back  again  with  each  pace  he  took,  and  already 
he  could  descry  the  first  houses  of  the  town;  another 
minute  or  two,  and  some  one  would  surely  come  along 
the  road,  and  stop  the  murderous  brute  behind  him — 
and  the  next  moment  he  had  stumbled  over  a  gnarled 
root  growing  out  of  the  ground,  and  lay  sprawling  on 
his  back,  Then  he  knew  it  was  no  use  fighting  against 
his  destiny,  and,  struggling  to  his  knees,  he  held  up  his 
clasped  hands,  not  to  pray  for  his  life, — he  could  see 
that  was  useless, — but  to  be  killed  quickly,  and  be  done 
with  the  horror  of  it.  And  before  he  could  gather 
his  wits  fully,  he  saw  the  terrible  face  loom  down 
upon  him,  and  his  tongue  clove  to  the  roof  of  his 
mouth,  for  despite  its  awful  aspect  there  was  some 
thing  strangely  familiar  about  it;  and  then  it  flashed 
upon  him— was  it— could  it  be— ah,  yes,  it  was  his 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PKOP  229 

father,  and  Simeha  had  been  right,  his  father  had 
gone  mad  with  drink,  and  was  about  to  kill  his  poor 
little  son.  This,  then,  was  the  meaning  of  Witch 
Hindelah's  strange  words;  she  had  cursed  him  as  he 
had  deserved  for  making  mock  of  a  helpless  old  woman, 
and  therefore  he  was  now  going  to  die  by  her  clothes- 
prop.  He  looked  at  the  cruel  point  into  which  it 
tapered  off  at  the  bottom  end,  charred  and  hardened 
in  the  fire — it  was  but  a  matter  of  moments  before 
he  would  feel  it  go  crashing  through  his  chest,  and, 
0  God,  he  did  not  know  how  the  prayer  for  the  dying 
ran,  the  prayer  without  which  no  one  could  get  into 
the  Garden  of  Eden.  He  knew  it  was  contained  in 
his  morning-prayer,  but  what  it  was,  or  how  it  began, 
had  gone  clean  out  of  his  memory.  And  then  a  thought 
struck  him:  surely,  God  would  be  satisfied  if  he  died 
with  any  utterance  of  the  sacred  tongue  on  his  lips — 
and  quickly  he  pulled  out  the  Scroll  of  the  Megillah 
from  his  doublet,  unrolled  the  first  page,  and  began  to 
read  with  quaking  voice  that  halted  and  stumbled  over 
the  words,  because  they  were  written  without  the 
vowel  points :  "  And  it  was  in  the  days  of  Ahasuerus, 
the  Ahasuerus  who  ruled  from  Houdu  to  Kush.  .  .  ." 
High  up  he  held  the  scroll,  so  as  to  hide  from  his 
sight  the  terrible  face  above,  and  so  that  he  might  not 
see  the  blow  when  it  came,  and  read  on  meanwhile  as 
fast  as  his  half -palsied  tongue  could  wag. 

Ivolba  stood  swaying  from  side  to  side,  his  weapon 
poised  for  the  thrust,  giving  himself  time  to  take 
steady  aim.  And  then  his  eyes  fell  on  the  face  of  the 
figure  crouching  at  his  feet,  and  a  malignant  joy 
came  into  his  heart.  This  was  a  great  stroke  of  luck. 
Why,  here  was  the  goblin  who  had  haunted  his  memory, 


230  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

and  had  troubled  his  soul  with  vague,  uneasy  sugges 
tions  that  he  was  doing  somebody  a  great  wrong,  that 
he  had  done  something  that  was  foul  and  damnable — 
this  was  the  goblin  who  had  been  always  at  his  ear, 
and  had  whispered  reproaches  that  made  him  feel 
angry  with  himself;  but  this  was  the  last  of  him,  he 
would  pin  him  to  the  earth,  and  leave  him  there  writh 
ing,  and  be  rid  of  him  for  ever.  And  just  as  he  was 
drawing  his  arm  back  for  a  stronger  lunge,  he  saw  the 
goblin  pull  something  from  his  bosom — something  that 
was  blue;  did  goblins  as  a  rule  carry  strips  of  sky 
about  with  them?  Or  else,  was  there  something  won 
derful  and  magical  about  this  stretch  of  blue  color  that 
lay  across  Kolba's  eyes?  For  somehow  it  made  his 
senses  clearer  and  steadier;  he  could  look  back  into 
things  that  had  happened  before,  and  see  them  take 
definite  shape  to  themselves;  he  could  weigh  words  and 
actions;  he  could  hear  voices  and  see  faces  that  he 
knew,  and  he  became  conscious  that  the  voice  and  face 
before  him  belonged  to  some  one,  not  to  a  goblin,  but 
to  some  one  the  thought  of  whom  ever  made  his  heart 
beat  with  quickened  throbs  of  gladness — and  then  with 
a  final  wrench  his  mind  broke  through  the  clouds  and 
vapors  of  his  drunken  stupor,  and  he  saw  his  son 
David  holding  up  in  his  little  hands  the  Megillah 
Scroll — the  emblem  of  the  glad  and  happy  days  which 
he  had  turned  into  days  of  mourning.  And  from  him 
he  glanced  at  the  implement  of  murder  in  his  hand, 
and  the  next  moment  it  had  clattered  to  the  ground, 
and  Kolba  was  on  his  knees  straining  David  to  his 
bosom,  and  crying  amid  sobs  and  laughter: 

"  By  your  life  I  had  sworn  the  oath,  and  therefore 


HINDELAH'S  CLOTHES-PROP     231 

God  was  pitiful,  and  preserved  you  for  a  token  that  iny 
oath,  was  acceptable,  and  shall  not  be  made  void — by 
your  life."  ....  He  got  no  further,  for  a  darkness 
swept  over  his  eyes,  and  just  then  the  men  whom  the 
tale  of  the  terror-stricken  children  had  sent  in  search 
of  Kolba  came  up,  and  carried  him  home,  while  the 
swoon  that  had  been  sent  him  held  him  in  its  merciful 

embrace. 
************ 

Some  years  later,  Dr.  Berthold  Sonnenthal,  the  fa 
mous  pathologist,  while  lecturing  in  the  Clinicum  at 
Charkov,  said  among  other  things: 

"  I  must  here  instance  a  most  peculiar  case  of  alco- 
holophobia,  which  I  came  across  in  my  native  town  of 
Yarotsin.  The  subject  was  a  confirmed  drunkard,  and 
in  my  opinion  nothing  but  a  concentrated  shock  to  the 
nervous  system  would  induce  a  beneficial  reaction. 
Unfortunately,  I  did  not  have  my  galvanic  appliances 
with  me  at  the  time  to  make  the  experiment,  and  when 
I  visited  the  place  again  in  the  recent  summer  vaca 
tion,  I  was  certain  that  nothing  would  be  left  of  him 
but  his  tombstone.  To  my  surprise,  however,  I  was 
told,  and  saw  with  my  own  eyes,  that  the  man  had  be 
come  a  model  member  of  society.  And  what  do  you 
think  had  taken  the  place  of  the  Leyden  jar  battery 
I  wished  to  administer  to  him?  A  simple  clothes- 
prop.  Ah,  you  may  laugh,  gentlemen;  you  do  not  asso 
ciate  galvanism  with  clothes-props.  Wait  and  you  shall 
hear.  One  day  .  .  .  ." 

But  why  dish  up  again  the  cabbage  of  yesterday's 
cooking?  Do  we  not  all  know  the  story  of  Kolba 
Klamm's  regeneration,  and  of  the  part  Granny  Hin- 
delah's  clothes-prop  played  therein? 


THE   GRANDCHILDREN 

GRANDMOTHER  stood  at  the  window,  mending  a  boy's 
coat.     The   coat   could   hardly   be   called   a  thing   of 
beauty;  there  was  so  much  patchwork  on  it  that  you 
could  not  distinguish  the  original  material,  though  you 
looked  with  two   pairs   of  spectacles.     The   room  in 
which   grandmother  stood  was   of   a   piece   with   the 
garment;  it  was  also  made  of  rags,  loam  rags  for  the 
walls  and  flooring,  straw  and  shingle  rags  for  the  roof. 
Grandmother's  arms  felt  very  tired;  she  had  been 
holding   them    up    for   half-an-hour   before    she    suc 
ceeded  in  threading  her  needle.     Of  course,  neither 
Yankel  nor  Yenta  were  at  home  to  perform  that  office 
for  her;  they  never  were  when  she  wanted  them,  and 
always  when  she  did  not— especially  when  they  came 
back  with  empty  stomachs,  and  found  that  the  empti 
ness  had  become  extended  to  the  larder.     Then  Yenta 
would  cry,  and  Yankel  would  slink  into  the  nearest 
field,  and  steal  a  turnip  for  himself.     That  was  the 
manner  of  life  they  led,  the  three  of  them,  and  it  was 
not  a  pleasant   one.      Grandmother  thought   so  just 
now;  she  thought  so  at  least  three  times  in  the  day,  at 
the  hours  which  properly  constituted  households  set 
aside  for  meals.     And  so  it  had  been  ever  since  her 
daughter  and  her  daughter's  husband  had  been  carried 
off  by  the  dread  plague,  which  had  made  that  part  of 
the   land   a  great   charnel-house   five  years   ago;   and 
Yankel  and  Yenta  and  their  poverty  were  the  only 
legacy  they  had  left  her. 


THE  GRANDCHILDREN  233 

It  was  YankePs  coat  she  was  at  work  on.  She  was 
calculating:  in  four  years  he  would  be  a  Son  of  the 
Commandments,  and  would  be  able  to  earn  a  few 
copecks  by  helping  Mordecai,  the  peddler,  carry  his 
packages  through  the  neighboring  villages;  and  Yenta 
would  be  twelve,  and  could  go  into  service,  if  only  to 
black  boots  and  polish  the  knives.  That  would  be 
glorious — money  coming  in  from  all  sides,  at  least 
ninety  copecks  a  week,  and  then  Granny  herself  could 
live  at  home  in  luxury,  instead  of  having  to  scavenge 
the  little  town  for  odds  and  ends  of  victuals,  in  scorch 
ing  heat  and  drenching  rain.  It  would  be  paradise  to 
rest  her  brittle  limbs,  instead  of  trudging  down  to  the 
synagogue  and  standing  outside  to  wait  for  her  dole, 
hustled  and  rough-shouldered  by  the  other  beggars. 
She  would  be  able  to  hold  her  head  high,  on  a  level 
with  other  grandmothers  to  whom  God  had  given  sons 
and  daughters,  to  keep  them  from  the  shame  of  charity 
bread.  Patience,  patience;  she  had  waited  for  a  little 
happiness  so  long, — hundreds  of  years,  perhaps, — and 
now  she  had  only  four  more  to  wait — a  mere  fleabite  of 
time,  as  one  would  say — and  she  was  quite  young  yet, 
only  eighty,  and  down  in  the  village  she  knew  three 
women  who  had  been  grandmothers  when  she  was  yet  a 
girl. 

Once  more  she  took  up  Yankees  coat,  and  looked  to 
find  a  proper  joining  for  the  new  patch.  Hm!  she 
must  hold  it  a  little  higher  to  the  light — it  suddenly 
had  got  very  dark — higher  still — why,  this  was  a  curi 
ous  thing;  the  higher  she  lifted  it  the  less  she  could 
see — a  great  shadow  was  floating  down  from  the  ceiling 
across  her  eyes,  across  the  sun,  across  everything— 


234  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

surely  it  was  not  night  ?  It  could  hardly  be  more  than 
two  hours  past  noon,  for  Yankel  and  Yenta  had  not  yet 
come  home  for  their  meal — ah,  something  went  snap, 
snap  in  her  head,  tearing  her  brain  to  tatters.  There 
was  just  time  for  her  to  grope  her  way  to  the  straw 
pallet  by  the  chimney — and  there  she  lay:  her  happiness 
had  come  to  her  sooner  than  she  had  thought. 

Ten  minutes  after,  Yankel  and  Yenta  came  bounding 
into  the  room. 

"Give  us  our  dinner,"  shouted  Yankel,  at  the  top 
of  his  voice. 

"Hush!"  said  Yenta,  with  her  finger  on  her  lip. 
There  was  a  funny  noise  in  the  room — a  husky  rattle, 
or  rather  a  bubbling  as  of  water  through  a  blow-pipe. 

"  It's  only  the  old  woman  asleep,"  said  Yankel,  in 
differently.  "  Heigh,  there!  "  he  shouted.  "  Leave  off 
snoring,  and  give  us  our  dinner.  "What  do  you  mean  by 
sleeping  in  the  middle  of  the  day?  " 

There  was  no  answer,  save  the  continued  bubbling. 
Angrily  Yankel  stepped  to  the  couch,  and  laid  his  hand 
on  grandmother's  shoulder;  it  felt  stiff  and  edgy. 

"If  you  don't  get  up  instantly,  I  shall  break  the 
window,  and  then  you  will  get  toothache  in  your  joints 
from  the  draught,"  he  cried. 

This  time  there  was  a  different  answer.  The  bub 
bling  changed  to  a  long-drawn-out  breath,  half  gulp, 
half  sigh,  and  after  that  there  was  no  more  bubbling, 
and  no  gulping  or  sighing. 

Yankel  stepped  back,  terrified  at  the  sudden  silence. 

"  Get  out  of  the  light,  Yenta,"  he  whispered. 

Yenta  stepped  round  to  the  other  side  of  the  pallet, 
and  bent  down. 


THE  GRANDCHILDREN  235 

"Look  how  white  she  is — and  how  her  jaw  drops, 
and  she  does  not  move  or  twine  her  fingers  in  and  out 
as  she  always  does  when  she  sleeps/'  she  remarked. 

A  thought  had  come  to  Yankel,  and  he  uttered  it 
with  fluttering  voice. 

"Yenta,  I  don't  think  she  is  asleep — I  think  she  is 
dead." 

"Dead?    What's  that?" 

"  It  means  that  she  cannot  give  us  any  more  dinners, 
or  go  begging  for  bread  and  money,"  replied  Yankel. 

And  then  he  sat  down,  and  fell  into  a  reverie.  He 
had  never  much  loved  this  grandmother  of  his.  She 
had  given  him  too  little  food,  and  had  made  him  say 
too  many  prayers.  All  day  long  it  went,  "Yankel, 
have  you  said  grace  after  your  meal — have  you  said  the 
afternoon  service?  Yes?  I  don't  believe  you — say  it 
at  once — a  little  louder,  I  cannot  hear  you — it  is  the 
beginning  of  the  month  to-day,  be  careful  to  insert, 
'  May  our  remembrance  rise.' ''  Or,  again,  it  would  be: 
"  To-day  is  Monday  and  Thursday  " — though,  of  course, 
it  could  only  be  one  or  the  other — "  don't  forget  to  say 
in  full,  '  And  He,  being  merciful.' ''  Sometimes  he 
had  come  home  from  the  Talmud-school  fainting  and 
famishing,  and  there  had  been  nothing  to  eat,  and  all 
the  answer  he  had  received  to  his  threats  about  break 
ing  the  furniture  and  pulling  the  house  down  was 
usually:  "  Sit  down  quietly  and  read  a  few  psalms — 
that  will  mean  another  slice  of  leviathan  for  you  when 
you  come  to  Garden  Eden." 

And  now  he  was  safe  against  these  admonitions;  the 
old  woman  over  there  would  never  speak  another  word. 
A  sense  of  ease  and  liberty  came  over  him — he  felt  so 


236  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

free  and  unshackeled.  Now  he  need  not  say  any 
prayers,  unless  he  wanted  to,  and  that  was  quite  a  differ 
ent  thing  to  saying  them  under  compulsion.  Now  he 
could  sleep  as  long  as  he  liked,  and  would  not  be 
aroused  by  the  hateful  cry:  "  Yankel,  Yankel,  do  you 
wish  to  say  the  'Hear,  0  Israel'  after  the  permitted 
time?"  He  could  not  have  desired  anything  better, 
and  Yankel  felt  inclined  to  jump  three  feet  into  the 
air  with  delight — and  jump  he  did  with  a  sudden 
thought  which  had  pricked  him  that  instant.  Now 
that  his  grandmother  was  dead,  he  would  have  to  say 
the  Kaddish,  the  Mourner's  Sanctification,  for  her  dur» 
ing  a  whole  year  less  a  month.  That  was  terrible — it 
meant  getting  up  soon  after  daybreak,  going  to  the 
synagogue  twice  and  sometimes  three  times  a  day,  and 
sitting  through  the  whole  weariness  of  the  services.  He 
knew  how  it  would  be.  In  the  morning,  just  as  he  was 
turning  over  on  the  other  side,  the  Belfer,  the  congre 
gational  factotum,  would  come  and  call  through  the 
window:  "Yankel,  it  is  time:  come  to  prayer  if  you 
want  your  grandmother  to  lie  at  rest  in  her  grave." 
And  perhaps  the  snow  might  be  piled  outside  as  high 
as  the  lattice.  And  in  the  afternoon  again,  just  as  he 
was  in  the  very  heat  of  his  games  with  the  other  boys, 
some  officious  house-master,  going  along  to  the  syna 
gogue  to  make  the  quorum  of  Ten,  would  seize  him  by 
the  nape  of  his  neck,  and  drag  him  along,  exactly  as 
had  been  the  case  with  Lemmel  Twitchka  when  he  lost 
his  father.  And  Lemmel  had  confided  to  Yankel  that 
his  sufferings  during  that  year  had  been  terrible,  and 
it  was  nothing  short  of  a  miracle  that  he  had  not  fol 
lowed  his  father  in  the  course  of  it.  What  did  Yankel 


THE  GRANDCHILDREN  237 

care  whether  his  grandmother  was  at  rest  or  not?  On 
the  contrary,  to  pray  for  her  would  be  doing  her  an 
injustice.  She  had  done  enough  praying  and  sanctify 
ing  during  her  lifetime,  and  one  ought  to  give  her  a 
chance  of  seeing  whether  she  got  into  Paradise  on  her 
own  merits  or  through  adventitious  help. 

"Yenta,"  he  said  all  at  once,  "we  must  go  away 
from  here." 

"  What,  and  leave  her?  "  answered  Yenta,  pointing 
to  the  still  figure  on  the  straw.  She  had  been  gazing 
at  it  all  the  time,  trying  to  recognize  in  it  the  grand 
mother  she  had  known.  Despite  Yankel's  explanation 
she  still  was  not  clear  what  it  meant  to  be  dead,  but 
from  what  she  saw  it  must  be  something  beyond  the 
ordinary  mysteries  of  life. 

"Leave  her?  Of  course/'  said  Yankel,  in  a  matter-of- 
fact  tone.  "Why  not?" 

"  Oh,  she  looks  so  helpless,"  said  Yenta.  "  Suppose 
somebody  came  to  do  her  an  injury  while  we  are  away, 
she  could  do  nothing  to  prevent  it." 

"That's  just  the  very  reason,"  explained  Yankel, 
sapiently;  "she  cannot  help  herself,  and  cannot  help 
us.  We  must  go  and  find  another  grandmother,  or 
else  we  shall  go  hungry  all  day — nay,  all  the  year !  " 

Yenta  saw  the  force  of  the  argument  and  wavered. 
"Gould  we  not  find  a  grandmother  in  the  village?" 
she  asked  to  compromise  the  matter. 

"What,  in  our  village?"  echoed  Yankel,  disdain 
fully.  "  What  is  the  good  of  them?  They  are  all  deaf 
or  blind,  and,  besides,  they  each  have  at  least  fifty 
grandchildren  already.  We  must  go  to  a  big  town, 
where  there  are  plenty  to  choose  from." 


238  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Yenta  looked  thoughtful.  "  Isn't  it  funny  that  we 
were  born  without  a  father  and  mother  ?  "  she  said  at 
last. 

"  Oh,  that's  nothing,"  replied  Yankel,  with  a  great 
show  of  world-wisdom.  "  There  are  plenty  of  children 
like  that;  but  they  had  no  grandmother  either.  We 
did,  you  see,  and  therefore  we  can  go  to  the  people  and 
say:  '  Give  us  a  new  grandmother.' '' 

"  If  we  went,  we  might  as  well  look  for  something 
better  than  a  grandmother,"  said  Yenta,  taken  with  a 
new  idea. 

"  What's  that?  "  inquired  Yankel. 

"  A  father! "  replied  Yenta,  triumphantly;  she  was 
quite  sure  of  producing  an  effect  on  her  audience. 
"  Don't  you  know,  Yankel,  that  all  the  fathers  in  our 
village  are  strong,  healthy  men,  who  can  work  very 
hard,  without  wheezing  and  groaning  as  grandmother 
did  when  she  had  to  do  a  little  washing?  And  there 
fore  they  earn  a  lot  of  money,  and  their  children  always 
go  about  with  their  crop  full.  Don't  you  think  it  would 
be  better  to  ask  for  a  father?  " 

"To  be  sure,"  cried  Yankel,  heartily,  almost  forget 
ting  the  deceit  he  was  practicing  on  her  in  the  sin 
cerity  of  his  approval.  "  Come,  let  us  start  at  once; 
it  is  only  two  thousand  miles  or  so  to  the  next  town, 
and  we  can  walk  that  in  a  few  hours.  We  should  get 
there  just  in  time  for  supper." 

"Do  you  know  the  way,  Yankel?" 

"  Of  course,  I  do — straight  along  the  forest,"  replied 
Yankel,  with  great  assurance.  "And  now  let  us  see 
what  we  can  take  with  us  on  the  road." 

He  rummaged  in  the  cupboard,  and  found  a  chunk 


THE  GRANDCHILDREN  239 

of  black  bread,  and  a  piece  of  curd  cheese  that  felt  like 
a  chip  of  white  brick.  Then  they  stepped  into  the  open. 
"When  they  had  gone  a  few  paces>  Yenta  stopped  and 
said:  "  Wait  a  minute;  I  have  forgotten  something." 

She  ran  back  into  the  house,  kissed  the  white  face 
on  the  pallet,  and  put  the  large  prayer-book  into  the 
stiff  hands.  She  had  been  afraid  to  do  so  while  Yankel 
was  there;  he  would  have  laughed  at  her.  And  then, 
without  another  look,  she  hurried  out  to  catch  up 
her  brother,  who  had  been  walking  on  sturdily.  The 
sunshine  cast  a  golden  haze  over  copse  and  hedge;  the 
birds  were  chattering  and  talking  scandal  on  the  trees, 
and  people  remarked  how  beautifully  they  were  singing; 
the  butterflies  were  turning  somersaults  in  the  air  for 
sheer  delight.  Everywhere  there  was  gladness  and 
life — everywhere  save  in  the  little  loam  hut  which  the 
two  children  had  just  left  behind,  and  that  contained 
something  holier  and  godlier,  for  it  was  full  of  the 
angel  of  peace,  who  heals  long-aching  wounds,  and 
makes  a  truce  between  the  angels  of  life  and  suffering. 

Yankel  and  Yenta  had  been  walking  a  whole  hour, 
and  the  fatigue  of  the  journey  lay  upon  them  heavily; 
and  just  then  they  reached  the  outskirts  of  the  forest, 
where  the  sun-glint  rippled  over  the  leaves,  and  made 
each  one  of  them  seem  a  smile  of  welcome. 

"How  cool  it  is  here!"  said  Yankel,  flinging  him 
self  down  on  the  fresh  moss.  "  We  may  as  well  rest  a 
little,  and  have  our  dinner." 

Yenta  readily  fell  in  with  the  proposal,  and  seated 
herself  beside  him;  and  when  they  had  made  away  with 
all  the  provisions  and  a  little  bit  of  their  appetite,  they 
stretched  themselves  out  lazily  and  luxuriously. 


240  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

They  had  not  lain  on  so  soft  a  bed  for  a  long  time. 

"  Yenta,  if  I  fall  asleep,  be  sure  to  wake  me  at  once/' 
murmured  Yankel. 

66 1  shall/'  replied  Yenta,  drowsily,  and  she  had  just 
time  to  see  Yankel's  eyes  close  before  her  own  fol 
lowed  suit. 

The  chill  of  the  evening  dew  shook  Yankel  out  of 
his  slumber. 

"  Yenta,  Yenta,"  he  cried,  "  look,  we  have  slept  the 
sun  to  bed.  Quick,  let  us  hasten  before  it  gets  dark 
altogether." 

Yenta  leaped  up  with  a  start,  looking  round  her  for 
the  daylight,  and  only  finding  a  faint  streak  of  pale 
red  glimmering  to  the  west. 

She  shivered  a  little.  "Don't  you  think  we  had 
better  leave  the  forest,  and  strike  across  the  open 
fields?"  she  asked. 

"Why,  pray?" 

"Because  there  might  be  gipsies  or  ghosts  in  the 
wood." 

Yankel  was  just  about  to  draw  himself  up  and  start 
to  bluster  about  his  courage  and  her  cowardice,  when 
his  eyes  fell  on  the  lengthening  shadows  around,  and 
he  answered  with  a  small  voice: 

"  I  think  you  are  right,  Yenta."  So  they  went  on  a 
a  little  way  in  silence. 

"  Isn't  it  dark?  "  whispered  Yenta. 

"  What  else  do  you  expect  at  night  time  ? "  asked 

Yankel.     "  But  it  won't  last  very  long,  the  moon  will 

be   up    presently."     And   he    quickly    swallowed    the 

quaver  in  his  voice  before  Yenta  might  notice  it. 

But,  despite  his  prediction,  the  moon  was  very  tardy 


THE  GKANDCHILDKEN  241 

in  coming.  The  sky  had  rolled  itself  up  in  dense,  hazy 
mists,  not  so  thick  as  storm-clouds,  but  thick  enough 
to  give  the  moon  considerable  trouble  in  breaking 
through  them.  So  she  could  only  make  a  little  rift, 
through  which  she  peeped  shamefacedly,  and  what 
could  be  seen  of  her  face  looked  very  pale  and  wan, 
probably  with  the  exertion. 

The  two  little  travellers  journeyed  on,  holding  each 
other  very  tightly  by  the  hand.  They  were  keeping 
along  a  bramble  hedge  that  seemed  to  stretch  endlessly 
into  the  darkness. 

"Do  you  really  know  the  road?"  asked  Yenta, 
breathlessly. 

"Don't  ask  so  many  questions,  come  along,"  an 
swered  Yankel  savagely. 

Then  there  was  silence  again  for  a  little  while,  until 
Yenta,  despite  the  risk  of  incurring  her  brother's  dis 
pleasure,  spoke  up,  just  to  see  if  her  voice  had  not  been 
frightened  out  of  her  entirely. 

"  Perhaps  we  shall  not  find  a  father  after  all  to* 
night." 

"  You  with  your  father,"  broke  out  Yankel,  "  if  we 
had  gone  only  to  find  a  grandmother,  we  might  have 
come  across  one  already;  fathers  are  much  more  difficult 
to  get  in  these  hard  times." 

And  Yankel  walked  on  faster,  till  suddenly  he  took 
it  into  his  head  to  gaze  back  and  see  if  the  world 
looked  so  dark  behind  as  it  looked  in  front.  "No,  it 
did  not — a  few  yards  behind  him  there  was  a  patch  of 
light  against  the  hedge.  What  might  it  be?  Anybody 
could  have  told  him  it  was  the  little  streak  of  moon 
shine  that  had  struggled  down  through  the  fissure  in 


242  STRANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

the  wrack  overhead.  A  minute  after  Yankel  looked 
round  again.  It  was  still  there,  just  as  close  behind, 
or  a  little  closer;  the  rift  was  shifting. 

"What  makes  you  look  round  like  that?"  asked 
Yenta. 

"  Nothing.  I  thought — "  And  then  Yankel  was 
silent,  and  glanced  back  again.  There  it  was,  only  it 
looked  different  now;  it  was  beginning  to  take  shape; 
it  resembled — what  did  it  resemble?  Yankel  set  his 
teeth  firmly  to  bite  his  fear  dead  between  them.  Then 
he  turned  round  once  more,  and  this  time  he  found  out 
what  it  was. 

"  She  is  coming  behind  us,"  he  whispered,  breaking 
into  a  run. 

"Who — what  is?"  asked  Yenta,  quivering. 

"She  with  the  white  face.  Come,  let  us  run;  we 
can  run  faster  than  she.  She  could  never  catch  us 
when  she  wanted  to  give  us  a  beating." 

And  so  they  ran  on  with  heaving  chests  and  flying 
breath.  And  when  they  had  run  across  half  the  world, 
as  it  seemed  to  them,  Yankel  looked  again  across  his 
shoulder,  and  a  sob  of  terror  broke  from  his  lips. 

"She  is  still  following,"  he  gasped,  "she  is  close 
behind.  She  wants  to  catch  me  and  drag  me  back  to 
say  the  Mourner's  Sanctification  for  her  every  morning 
and  afternoon.  Faster,  Yenta,  faster!  " 

He  gripped  her  hand  harder,  and  whirled  her  along 
with  him,  until  suddenly  there  was  a  squeaking,  suck 
ing  noise  under  their  feet,  and  the  ground  became  soft 
and  spongy. 

"  The  swamp — the  swamp,"  whispered  Yenta. 

"Is    it    the    swamp?"    cried    Yankel,    exultantly. 


THE  GRANDCHILDKEN  243 

"  Then  we  shall  escape  her  after  all;  she  cannot  follow 
us  there,  or  she  will  get  drowned." 

He  looked  around;  the  white  face  was  still  following; 
he  gave  a  loud  shriek,  and,  grasping  Yenta's  hand  as  in 
a  vice,  dragged  her  on  stumbling  in  the  soft  morass 
and  oozy  slime.  He  knew  just  beyond  it  there  was  a 
lake,  and  in  the  waters  they  could  hide  till  the  white 
face  had  got  tired  of  looking  for  them.  They  must  be 
approaching  near  it;  the  ground  was  getting  softer  and 
softer,  and  squelched  and  squeaked;  already  the  waters 
were  playing  about  their  ankles;  they  would  be  safe 
soon.  And  suddenly  a  great  watery  abyss  seemed  to 
open  before  them;  somebody  was  gripping  them  by  the 
feet,  dragging  them  down,  down,  down — and  then  the 
placid  surface  closed  up  again,  and  looked  innocent,  as 
if  nothing  had  happened. 

So  Yankel  and  Yenta  found  a  Father  that  night, 
after  all — the  same  who  had  bidden  the  moon  paint  the 
white  face  on  the  bramble-hedge. 


TO   THE  GLORY   OF   GOD 


"  OUT  you  go,  unless  you  want  me  to  empty  this  kettle 
of  boiling  water  over  your  head.  What  have  I  done  to 
be  the  mother  of  such  an  idle,  good-for-nothing,  gor 
mandizing  glutton?  Something  to  eat,  indeed!  Pray, 
what  would  you  like — roasted  lamb-tails  garnished  with 
burnt  duck-feathers?  Boiled  moonshine  with  sugar? 
Blue  of  the  sky  baked  into  pancakes?  At  six  in  the 
evening  there's  potato-gruel — till  then,  not  a  morsel; 
do  you  hear?  Whoever  suggested  your  name  was  a 
prophet;  a  lump  of  ill-luck  you  have  been  to  your 
parents — nothing  else.  Are  you  going  or  not  ?  " 

Just  then  the  lady  made  a  rapid  movement  in  the 
direction  of  the  afore-mentioned  hot-water  receptacle, 
and  Jonah  thought  it  time  to  take  her  seriously.  So  he 
put  on  his  cheeriest  smile,  thrust  his  hands  into  his 
pockets,  and  sauntered  out  leisurely,  whistling  the 
j oiliest  tune  he  could  think  of.  It  was  twelve  o'clock, 
and,  therefore,  it  still  lacked  six  hours  to  the  promised 
meal.  But  that  was  a  trifle,  thought  Jonah,  not  worth 
while  making  oneself  miserable  about. 

He  strolled  a  few  yards  up  the  village  street,  and 
stopped.  He  saw  Mendel,  his  only  brother,  coming 
along.  Mendel  was  twenty,  two  years  older  than 
Jonah,  although  no  one  would  have  thought  it,  because 
Jonah  was  a  head  taller,  and  had  a  chest  like  a  barn 
door.  Mendel  carried  a  fat  volume  under  his  arm,  and 


TO  THE  GLOEY  OF  GOD  245 

was  walking  very  slowly,  as  though  its  weight  impeded 
him.  His  eyes  were  bent  meditatively  on  the  ground. 

"  Shall  I  carry  your  book  for  you?  "  sang  out  Jonah, 
cheerfully.  For  answer  Mendel  shook  his  head  with 
angry  impatience,  like  one  who  resents  an  unwarranted 
interruption. 

Jonah  smiled  a  little  scornfully.  "I  suppose  he  is 
puzzling  out  where  a  dog  has  his  gizzard,  or  something 
equally  important/'  he  said  to  himself.  Then  he  fol 
lowed  him  as  far  as  he  could.  Mendel  stepped  into  the 
house,  and  Jonah,  mindful  of  what  awaited  him  within, 
hung  about  outside.  He  expected  something,  nor  was 
he  disappointed.  Presently  the  savor  of  frying  onions 
floated  out  upon  the  summer  air.  Jonah's  organ  of 
smell  confiscated  most  of  it;  it  was  a  pity  to  waste  such 
a  good  thing,  even  if  it  did  not  come  exactly  within 
the  category  of  eatables.  Ten  minutes  after,  he  heard 
the  back-door  of  the  kitchen  open  and  shut.  His 
mother  had  gone  out  on  an  errand.  Now  was  his 
chance.  Quickly  he  entered  the  living-room,  and 
found  Mendel  at  the  table,  seated  before  a  tremendous 
platter  of  calf-liver.  The  fat  book  lay  open  beside 
him.  As  Jonah  came  in,  Mendel  looked  up,  and 
glanced  apprehensively  from  his  brother  to  his  platter, 
and  back  again. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  he  asked  surlily. 

"Nothing  in  particular/'  Jonah  answered  blandly; 
"  I  was  only  thinking  that,  in  case  you  can't  manage 
all  that " 

"  Didn't  I  know  it?  "  screamed  Mendel.  "  As  usual, 
I  can't  eat  a  meal  without  your  prowling  round  to  tear 
it  out  of  my  teeth." 


246  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"Not  so  loud,  please,  dear  little  Mendel/'  begged 
Jonah,  hastily — he  knew  Mendel's  tactics — "if  you 
don't  think  you  can  spare  anything,  I  shall  go  away. 
There's  no  need  to  excite  yourself  so." 

"No,  I  can't  spare  anything,"  replied  Mendel,  unc 
tuously — his  mother  had  used  much  suet  for  the  liver. 
"  It  would  be  sacrilege.  Don't  you  see  I  am  eating  this 
to  the  glory  of  God?  "  Jonah  looked  and  saw  nothing 
of  the  kind. 

"  Blockhead  that  you  are,  you  must  have  everything 
explained  to  you,"  went  on  Mendel.  "  Well,  I  need  a 
great  deal  of  food,  so  that  my  body  may  be  strong. 
A  strong  body  makes  a  strong  mind — if  one  has  a  mind 
to  begin  with.  And  one  needs  a  strong  mind  to  study 
God's  word;  and  the  study  of  God's  word  is  to  proclaim 
God's  glory.  Whereas  with  you,  who  don't  know  an 
Aleph  from  a  Beth,  it  really  doesn't  matter  whether 
you  eat  oftener  than,  say,  once  a  month." 

Jonah  was  silent,  thinking  if  he  could  not  find  a  flaw 
in  his  brother's  logic;  no,  it  was  invulnerable.  In  the 
meantime  Mendel's  mandibles  showed  he  had  the  cour 
age  of  his  convictions. 

"  I  don't  want  to  state  it  for  a  fact,"  said  Jonah  after 
a  moment  or  two;  "  I  only  want  to  ask  you — you  might 
have  come  across  it  in  the  course  of  your  studies. 
Can't  one  do  something  for  the  glory  of  God  by  sharing 
one's  food  with  the  hungry?"  Mendel  stooped  low 
over  his  book,  but  that  did  not  prevent  Jonah  from 
noticing  that  his  ears  had  suddenly  become  quite  pink. 

"  There  is  something  mentioned  in  the  Law  on  that 
point,"  replied  Mendel,  reverting  to  his  plate;  "but 
they  say  the  passage  is  spurious,  and,  therefore,  need 
not  be  reckoned  with." 


TO  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD  247 

Jonah  was  getting  desperate;  the  contents  of  the 
dish  had  half  vanished,  and  still  Mendel's  pious  appetite 
showed  no  abatement. 

"  Do  you  know,  Mendel/5  he  remarked,  stepping  reso 
lutely  to  the  table,  "  they  say  hunger  is  a  law  to  itself. 
One  must  obey  the  laws,  don't  you  think  so?  " 

"Help,  thieves,  murder!"  shouted  Mendel,  frantic 
ally  encircling  his  earthenware  cornucopia  with  both 
arms.  "  Jonah  is  strangling  me." 

Before  Jonah  could  make  up  his  mind  what  further 
measures  to  take  in  the  face  of  this  determined  opposi 
tion,  he  heard  a  swish  behind,  which  landed  somewhere 
on  his  back  and  made  it  tingle.  Then  there  was  an 
other  swish  and  another  tingle.  Finally  he  felt  him 
self  collared,  and  his  father's  voice  said  at  his  ear: 

"  Is  that  where  your  bottomless  greed  will  bring  you? 
Fratricide?  You  think  without  that  you  aren't  sure  of 
your  passport  into  Gehennom?  I  for  my  part  have 
given  it  my  signature — on  your  back  here.  Perhaps 
you  want  me  to  underline  it." 

Jonah  made  no  answer,  but  with  one  wrench  of  his 
shoulder  he  shook  his  father  loose,  and  went  out.  Any 
one  who  saw  him  making  his  exit,  hands  in  pockets, 
smile  on  face,  and  whistling  for  all  he  was  worth,  would 
have  thought  he  had  just  come  away  from  a  most 
pleasurable  experience.  Jonah  walked  slowly,  as  be 
fitted  a  retrospective  mood.  He  was  asking  himself, 
if  he  really  deserved  all  that  people  thought  and  said 
of  him;  he  wondered  why  no  one  gave  him  credit  for 
wishing  well,  if  they  all  condemned  him  for  doing  ill, 
and  how  it  was  that  his  name  had  become  a  blank 
cheque  which  every  one  could  fill  in  to  any  requisite 


248  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

amount  of  wickedness.  How  could  he  help  it  that  he 
had  not  been  born  with  the  proper  appliances  for  ac 
quiring  knowledge,  like  his  brother  Mendel?  It  was  per 
haps  natural  that  by  not  keeping  up  the  proud  tradition 
of  his  family,  both  on  the  paternal  and  maternal  side, 
and  becoming  a  great  scholar,  like  Mendel,  he  should 
have  forfeited  his  parents'  love.  But  surely  it  was 
not  his  fault  that  he  was  so  strong,  and  therefore  could 
not  find  employment,  because  wherever  he  offered  his 
services,  it  was  feared  he  woulcl  obtrude  certain  definite 
notions  he  possessed  about  the  treatment  due  to  him. 
He  let  his  father  beat  him  from  a  sense  of  filial  piety; 
if  it  gave  his  father  pleasure,  he  was  not  going  to 
grudge  it  to  the  old  man,  whose  only  other  joy  in  life 
was  his  elder  son  Mendel;  but  he  owed  no  such  piety  to 
a  stranger,  as  the  only  man  in  whose  employ  he  had 
ever  been  learned  to  his  cost.  Since  then  Jonah  had 
been  more  or  less  a  vagabond  at  large,  the  victim  of 
much  prophetic  head-shaking  and  ominous  wrinkling  of 
brows,  and  through  it  all  he  went  about  smiling,  whist 
ling,  till  the  prophets  became  convinced  that  his  only 
aim  and  object  in  life  was  to  vindicate  their  capacity 
for  soothsaying. 

But  Jonah  knew  better:  he  knew  his  smile  was  only 
skin  deep,  his  whistle  came  only  from  his  lips,  not  from 
his  heart.  He  was  tired  to  death  of  the  general  con 
tumely  of  which  he  was  the  target.  And  yet — why  did 
he  endure  it?  Jonah  the  adventurous,  the  devil-may- 
care,  why  did  he  skulk  away  his  time  here,  instead  of 
taking  his  knapsack  and  going  off  "over  all  the  seven 
mountains/'  somewhere  where  he  could  start  life 
afresh,  and  not  have  his  infamy  looking  at  him  from 


TO  THE  GLORY  OF  GOD  249 

every  pair  of  eyes  he  met  in  the  street?  Yes,  why 
didn't  he  go? 

The  answer  came  tripping  along  on  two  dainty  little 
feet;  it  had  a  sweet  young  face,  for  it  had  only  just 
stepped  over  the  boundary  between  childhood  and 
womanhood.  When  Jonah  saw  the  girl,  his  hands  left 
his  pockets  abruptly,  and  the  whistle  died  on  his  lips. 

"  Good-day  to  you,  Fryda,"  he  said. 

The  mouth  closed  tightly,  and  she  walked  past  him 
without  a  look. 

"What's  up?"  asked  Jonah,  uncomfortably. 

"Don't  pretend  you  don't  know,"  she  said  angrily. 
"  Didn't  you  threaten  to  kill  your  brother  an  hour  ago  ? 
I  heard  all  about  it." 

Jonah  was  staggered.  "First  of  all,  it  isn't  true/' 
he  said  at  last;  "  secondly,  it  was  only  a  threat;  and, 
thirdly,  what  has  it  got  to  do  with  you?" 

Fryda's  answer  was  a  flush  that  tinted  all  her  face 
in  a  wonderful  rose-light.  Jonah  did  not  understand 
that  flush;  it  disconcerted  him.  He  had  talked  to  her 
hundreds  of  times,  but  never  before  had  he  noticed  the 
phenomenon. 

"  Why,  what  has  it  got  to  do  with  you?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Pretending  again,"  she  answered,  but  a  great  deal 
more  gently;  "as  if  you  didn't  know  that  your  father 
and  mine  arranged  last  night  Mendel  was  to  be  my 
husband.  You  will  admit  I  had  good  reason  to  be 
angry  with  you  for  threatening  to  harm  him.  But  you 
won't,  really,  Jonah,  will  you?" 

She  lifted  her  eyes  pleadingly  to  his,  and  was  aston 
ished  to  see  how  pale  he  had  become.  She  thought  it 
was  with  remorse. 


250  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"I  won't/'  he  said  bluntly.  "Tell  me  one  thing, 
Fryda,  are  you  fond  of  him?  " 

"  Oh,  very :  I  always  was>  ever  since  I  can  remember. 
How  could  I  help  it  when  every  one  talks  so  well  of 
him?  Isn't  he  the  greatest  scholar  for  a  hundred  miles 
round?  That  alone  would  make  me  love  him.  I  have 
always  wondered,  Jonah,  that  having  such  a  brother, 
you  are — what  you  are." 

"  I  often  wonder  at  it  myself,"  said  Jonah,  and,  with 
a  short  nod,  went  on.  Fryda  did  not  remark  that  he 
had  not  wished  her  joy. 

Jonah  passed  on  his  way  with  irregular,  zigzag  steps. 
People  who  saw  him  nodded  significantly.  "  Now  he 
has  also  taken  to  drink/'  they  told  each  other.  For 
the  first  time  Jonah  realized  what  an  outcast  he  was  in 
his  parents'  house ;  even  such  an  item  of  family  import 
ance  no  one  had  considered  it  necessary  to  communicate 
to  him.  But  the  bitterness  of  that  was  as  honey  to  the 
knowledge  that  the  only  star  in  his  firmament  had  been 
blotted  out,  and  that  his  soul  was  now  groping  in  dark 
ness.  And  yet,  what  else  had  he  to  expect?  The  weed 
could  not  mate  with  the  rose,  and  the  weed  had  known 
its  unworthiness,  and  had  never  avowed  its  desire. 
That  was  something  to  be  grateful  for — one  humilia 
tion  the  less.  And,  therefore,  he  had  more  room  for 
his  anger.  There  was  nothing  left  to  love  now — not 
even  she,  who,  all  the  time,  had  redeemed  the  others 
from  his  hatred;  it  was  a  sin  to  love  her.  His  plan  was 
made:  just  a  little  space  to  revel  in  this  hatred  of  his, 
and  then,  off  and  away  for  ever. 

When  he  returned  home  that  night,  it  was  hours 
after  meal-time.  The  gruel-soup  stood  on  the  hearth, 


TO  THE  GLOEY  OF  GOD  251 

cold  and  sour.  Jonah,  devoured  it,  together  with  a 
chunk  of  black  bread.  The  hard  fare  tasted  sweet  to 
his  palate.  He  knew  it  was  not  his  hunger  that  sweet 
ened  it;  the  sugar  was  his  great  hatred. 

II 

A  week  after,  Mendel  got  up  in  the  morning,  wish 
ing  he  had  the  day  behind  him.  It  contained  for  him 
business  of  considerable  importance — State  business,  in 
fact.  The  evening  before,  he  had  received  a  message 
from  the  Minister  of  War,  asking  him  to  be  so  good  as 
to  come  and  serve  his  country.  It  gave  him  explicit 
instructions  to  present  himself  by  noon  at  the  barracks 
of  the  departmental  capital, — three  hours'  journey  by 
wagon  from  his  native  place, — and  there  to  draw  lots 
with  the  other  conscripts  as  to  whether  he  should  have 
the  felicity  of  wearing  his  Majesty  the  Czar's  uniform 
for  the  period  of  four  years.  It  was  natural  Mendel 
should  feel  anxiety  about  the  issue,  because,  if  he  hap 
pened  to  draw  the  red  ticket  instead  of  the  white,  it 
would  entail  certain  monetary  remedies  to  rectify  the 
mistakes  of  chance.  His  parents  were  equally  anxious. 

"If  he  doesn't  draw  the  white,  it  will  mean  four 
hundred  roubles,"  said  his  father. 

"  God  forbid,  Simon,"  said  his  wife;  "  don't  let  us 
open  our  mouth  to  evil." 

And  then  the  two  of  them  sat  down  with  their  psalm- 
book,  and  shook  their  bodies  over  its  contents  in  a 
paroxysm  of  devotion.  Fryda  came  in,  and  sat  close  to 
them,  and  she  prayed  for  her  lover  with  little  prayers 
of  her  own  making.  Jonah  went  out  as  he  saw  her 


252  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

enter.  Nobody  asked  him  to  stop,  because  nobody 
thought  for  a  moment  that  his  supplications  would  be 
any  assistance. 

But  neither  the  old  people's  psalms  nor  the-  young 
girl's  benedictions  proved  of  any  avail.  When  Mendel 
came  back  that  evening  they  could  read  the  red  ticket 
on  his  face.  However,  old  Simon  was  a  practical  man. 
To  begin  with,  he  shrugged  his  shoulder,  then  he 
asked:  "When  must  the  exemption  money  be  paid?" 

"  The  day  after  to-morrow  by  midday;  if  not,  I  must 
serve,"  replied  Mendel. 

"  Very  good,"  said  the  old  man. 

The  following  morning  he  was  up  betimes,  drove  into 
the  next  town  to  fetch  the  money  from  the  local  Rabbi 
with  whom  it  had  been  deposited  for  the  emergency. 
It  had  taken  them  three  years  to  save  it  up;  it  repre 
sented  much  work  and  toil.  But  it  was  worthily  ap 
plied.  Such  a  child  as  Mendel  deserved  everything;  he 
had  earned  for  his  parents  more  credit  and  honor  than 
could  be  bought  for  ten  times  the  amount.  It  was  a 
joy  to  make  sacrifices  for  him.  What  a  contrast  he  was 
to  Jonah,  from  whom  his  parents  had  never  had  a 
moment's  happiness — Jonah,  the  peace-breaker,  the 
would-be  assassin,  the  gamester,  and — as  people  had 
told  his  father  only  a  day  or  two  ago — the  drunkard. 
Yes,  that  was  the  explanation  of  the  sullen,  sinister 
look  on  his  face,  the  grudging  replies,  the  long  ab 
sences  from  home.  Ah,  but  his  parents  would  have 
their  revenge!  When  his  time  came  to  serve,  there 
would  not  be  a  copeck  ready  to  buy  him  out.  Let  him 
serve;  let  him  suffer  tribulation  to  chasten  his  soul. 
But  they  must  keep  their  ewe-lamb,  their  own  dear 
Mendel. 


TO  THE  GLOEY  OF  GOD  253 

"  Take  care  of  them/'  said  old  Simon  to  the  latter, 
handing  him  the  packet  of  rouble-notes  late  that  even 
ing. 

"  You  can  be  sure  I  shall/'  replied  Mendel,  with  a 
laugh. 

And  then  he  went  up  to  his  room,  and  placed  them 
solicitously  in  the  safest  place  he  could  find,  under  his 
pillow,  undressed,  and  went  to  bed,  because  he  had  to 
be  up  early  in  the  morning. 

On  the  table  he  had  stuck  a  short  candle-stump;  it 
was  so  short  that  it  could  not  be  used  again,  but  it 
was  a  pity  to  waste  the  little  that  remained.  By  its 
light  he  could  still  read  a  whole  chapter  of  Gemorah. 
So  he  fetched  out  the  book,  and  set  to  work.  It  was 
an  easy  passage,  and  did  not  require  much  exertion. 
Perhaps  it  was  that  which  made  him  drowsy;  but  no, 
he  would  finish  the  chapter.  His  eyes  closed;  the  next 
moment  they  were  open  again.  Then  they  kept  closed 
a  little  longer — longer  still,  till  they  were  shut  alto 
gether.  Mendel  was  asleep. 

But  the  candle-stump  was  awake — a  quarter  of  an 
inch  of  it.  By  and  by  the  wick  got  down  to  the  level  of 
the  table,  gasping  and  choking,  for  its  life-element,  the 
tallow,  had  melted  away.  A  little  of  it  had  got  soaked 
into  the  wood;  the  wick-flame  followed  it,  swallowed  it, 
and  stretched  out  an  ever-lengthening  tongue  in  its 
desperate  desire  for  more.  Greedily  the  flame  licked 
the  worm-eaten  timber,  crept  further  and  further,  until 
it  had  gained  a  sure  hold,  and  then  it  rose  up  like  the 
flag  of  the  besieger  over  a  captured  fortress. 

Mendel  slept  on;  suddenly  something  tickled  his 
throat,  something  bit  him  on  the  cheek.  He  leapt  up, 


254  STEANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

but  his  cry  of  terror  became  stifled  in  the  reverberations 
of  the  lurid  smoke.  Where  was  the  door?  Thank 
God,  his  hand  grasped  the  latch,  and  pulled  it  open  just 
as  the  dancing  fire-goblins  leapt  triumphantly  on  to 
his  pallet. 

"Father,  mother,  the  house  is  on  fire — save  your 
selves,"  he  shouted,  bursting  into  their  chamber. 

A  minute  after,  Mendel  and  his  parents  stood  in  the 
street,  just  in  time  to  see  the  gable-sheaves  convert 
themselves  into  fast-bound  sky-rockets.  There  had 
had  been  no  need  to  warn  Jonah;  he  was  not  sleeping  in 
the  house  that  night. 

"Have  you  the  roubles?"  gasped  Simon,  suddenly. 

Mendel's  knee-joints  gave  way. 

"God!  I  forgot  them — they  were  under  my  pillow." 

Ill 

Jonah  had  spent  the  night  on  a  truss  of  straw  in  a 
shed  half-a-mile  away  from  the  village,  and  so  he  had 
remained  ignorant  of  the  calamity  which  had  befallen 
his  paternal  dwelling.  Only  when,  early  next  morning, 
he  caught  sight  of  the  blackened  rafters  of  the  upper 
story  did  he  gain  an  explanation  of  the  uproar  and 
tumult  pervading  the  little  place.  He  came  closer. 
The  lower  part  of  the  house  had  been  saved,  owing  to 
the  prompt  and  strenuous  intervention  of  the  neigh 
bors.  A  cart  was  standing  at  the  door,  and  beside  it 
a  curious  scene  was  enacting  itself.  Mendel  was  em 
bracing  his  mother;  his  father  stood  by  with  streaming 
eyes  and  clasped  hands;  at  a  little  distance  was  Fryda, 
stiff  as  a  statue,  her  face  haggard  and  agony-drawn. 


TO  THE  GLOKY  OF  GOD  255 

"  The  money  was  upstairs,  and  got  burnt/'  Jonah 
heard  one  of  the  bystanders  say;  "  it  has  to  be  paid  by 
twelve  o'clock  to-day;  if  not,  he  must  go.  Four  hun 
dred  roubles!  Where  is  one  to  get  four  hundred 
roubles  in  four  hours?" 

A  thrill  of  demoniac  delight  went  through  Jonah. 
He  understood  now  why  he  had  been  requested  to  take 
up  his  quarters  elsewhere  for  the  night.  There  had 
been  a  lot  of  money  in  the  house,  and  they  were  afraid 
— that  was  what  they  had  come  to  think  of  him.  Aye, 
why  should  he  not  feel  glad  ?  Was  not  God  fighting  on 
his  side?  Now  was  the  moment  of  his  revenge,  now  he 
could  feast  his  hatred  and  batten  on  the  heart-blood 
which  was  here  flowing  in  torrents. 

He  strained  forward  eagerly.  Mendel  had  finished 
taking  leave  of  his  parents,  and  had  turned  to  Fryda. 
Jonah  was  curious  what  she  would  say.  She  said 
nothing;  she  only  looked  at  Mendel,  and  then  a  long 
sob  came  fathoms  and  fathoms  deep  out  of  her  soul. 
The  sound  made  Jonah  wonder  at  himself;  it  ought  to 
have  been  sweet  music  in  his  ears,  but  instead,  it  made 
him  writhe  as  if  some  one  were  jangling  his  own  heart 
strings  with  ruthless  fingers.  If  he  heard  it  but  once 
more  they  would  snap  altogether,  and  he  could  not 
afford  that;  he  had  only  one  heart. 

"  Mendel,  I  shall  go  as  substitute,"  he  said,  stepping 
up  to  him. 

His  brother  looked  at  him,  dazed,  and  Jonah  went 
on  in  an  undertone:  "It  is  only  my  idea  of  bringing 
my  mite  to  the  glory  of  God." 

The  next  moment  he  was  up  in  the  cart,  gently 
pushed  the  wagoners  on  one  side,  and  had  started  the 


256  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

horses  into  a  gallop.  He  wanted  to  get  away  before 
Fryda  could  thank  him. 

But  thank  him  she  did.  The  following  morning  the 
recruits  were  passing  along  the  high-road  skirting  the 
village.  The  population  had  turned  out  en  masse  to 
watch  them.  It  was  a  dismal  sight — more  like  a  troop 
of  condemned  criminals  going  to  their  doom.  In  the 
last  row  marched  Jonah,  a  smile  on  his  face,  whist 
ling  softly  to  himself;  he  was  the  only  one  among  them 
that  carried  himself  like  a  man  who  hopes  something 
from  his  future.  But  he  kept  his  eyes  in  front;  he 
knew  his  parents  and  brother  stood  by  the  roadside, 
and  he  did  not  want  to  humiliate  them.  Suddenly, 
however,  he  felt  two  soft  arms  round  his  neck,  and  a 
long,  warm  kiss  on  his  lips. 

"  To  the  glory  of  God,"  whispered  Fryda,  and  the 
next  moment  she  had  again  vanished  into  the  crowd. 

"You  needn't  split  one's  head  with  your  whistling, 
just  because  a  pretty  girl  has  kissed  you,"  said  Jonah's 
neighbor  morosely:  "you  aren't  the  first  man  to  whom 
that  has  happened." 

But  Jonah  only  whistled. 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS 


THE  closed  carriage,  resplendent  in  its  gilt  panellings 
and  armorial  bearings,  sped  on  briskly  behind  its  mag 
nificent  team  of  greys  through  the  gathering  dusk. 
The  road  was  all  humps  and  bumps,  and  strewn  with 
much  nondescript  litter;  but  the  soft  bulge  of  the 
carriage  cushions  and  the  finely  elastic  poise  of  the  car 
riage  springs  made  the  progress  of  the  vehicle  nothing 
but  a  pleasant  see-saw  to  the  inside  occupants.  The 
coachman  mumbled  "  Ave  Marias,"  and  the  two  richly- 
liveried  lackeys  on  the  narrow  foot-board  behind  held 
on  like  grim,  death  at  each  perilous  jolt,  and  thought 
fearfully  of  their  necks.  But  what  did  a  plebeian  neck 
or  two  count  to  Mylady,  especially  when  she  was  in 
a  hurry? 

Mylady  lolled  back  luxuriously,  wrapped  in  pleasur 
able  anticipations.  She  was  going  to  a  big  ball  given 
in  the  provincial  capital  by  the  Governor  of  the  depart 
ment,  and  she  expected  a  very  good  time  there.  Her 
husband,  the  district  Prefect  of  police, — by  the  way, 
he  was  her  third  attempt  at  matrimony, — had,  at  the 
last  moment,  been  taken  with  a  providential  attack  of 
gout,  which  forced  him  to  hug  his  own  impolite  com 
pany.  So  she  had  to  content  herself  with  the  escort  of 
her  son  by  her  first  marriage,  a  long,  sandy-haired 
youth  in  his  early  twenties,  and  she  did  it  without  great 
demur.  Her  elderly  husband  was  not  jealous,  but,  be- 


258  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

ing  a  police  official,  he  was  naturally  prone  to  put  a 
false  construction  on  things;  and,  perhaps,  what  con 
cerned  that  dashing  Colonel  of  Cossacks,  whom  she  had 
met  last  season  at  St.  Petersburg,  and  who  now  was 
chief  of  the  Governor's  body-guard — yes,  perhaps  her 
behavior  to  him  had  been  a  little  indiscreet.  And  that 
was  why  she  felt  so  good-humored;  to-night,  at  least, 
she  need  not  trouble  herself  with  questions  of  discre 
tion  or  the  other  thing.  After  all,  one  lived  but  once, 
and  the  devil  gives  no  discount  for  wasted  opportuni 
ties. 

Yes,  she  was  going  to  have  a  very  good  time  that 
evening.  It  was  only  a  pity  they  would  get  there 
rather  late,  much  too  late  to  give  her  Cossack  the 
opening  polonaise  for  which  he  had  begged  so  hard. 
But  things  had  gone  rather  contrary  with  her  toilet 
that  afternoon.  Her  Parisian  maid  had  shown  herself 
unusually  clumsy.  The  grey  patch  on  Mylady's  head 
would  not  take  the  dye,  the  enamel  would  not  stick  to 
her  shoulders,  the  rouge  went  all  streaky.  She  re 
gretted  the  delay  all  the  more,  because  the  Cossack 
was — she  knew  from  past  experience — quick  to  take 
offence,  and  would  be  sure  to  look  on  her  tardy  arrival 
as  a  personal  affront.  Only,  of  course,  till  she  ex 
plained;  one  of  the  horses  had  cast  a  shoe,  they  had  had 
to  stop  at  the  smithy,  and  the  smith  had  been  drunk. 
He  would  pretend  to  disbelieve  her,  would  overwhelm 
her  with  reproaches  for  her  indifference,  and  she  would 
be  able  to  listen  without  apprehension  of  a  scowling 
pair  of  eyes  glaring  misconstructions  at  her  from  be 
neath  knitted  brows.  How  she  would  enjoy  the  Cos 
sack's  passionate  chiding!  So  the  hour's  delay  was  after 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  259 

all  a  mistake  on  the  right  side.  But  two  hours  would 
have  meant  stringing  the  bow  too  taut.  And  that  was 
what  would  have  happened,,  if  she  had  not  insisted  on 
taking  the  by-path,  which  the  gipsies  had  hewn  out 
for  their  caravans,  instead  of  putting  up  with  the 
whimsicalities  of  the  zigzagging  high-road,  which  ran  in 
and  out  every  petty  hamlet  it  came  across,  just  as  an 
idle  housewife  gads  about  from  neighbor  to  neighbor, 
gossiping  with  any  one  who  will  give  her  a  hearing. 

Mylady  could  not  congratulate  herself  sufficiently  on 
her  firmness.  All  the  servants  had  warned  her  against 
the  gipsy  path,  saying  that  the  ground  was  not  to  be 
trusted  at  the  best  of  times,  much  less  after  the  spring 
rains.  She  knew  them,  the  varlets.  It  was  their 
cowardice  that  spoke,  nothing  else.  It  was  the  gipsies 
they  were  afraid  of.  Bah,  a  handful  of  jackal  starve 
lings,  whom  one  could  scare  off  with  a  shout !  She  did 
not  fear  them;  that  would  have  been  beneath  the  dig 
nity  of  one  who  was  presently  to  listen  to  fire-winged 
words  from  a  Hetman  of  Cossacks.  And  as  for  the 
path,  why,  it  was  as  smooth  as  her  husband's  bald 
pate, — no,  that  was  a  stupid  comparison, — as  smooth  as 
the  ice-track  upon  the  back-water  of  the  Great  Neva, 
over  which  they  had  whirled  that  memorable  winter 
evening,  when  her  Hetman  first  told  her  that  beside 
the  sheen  of  her  hair  and  teeth  the  moon-glint  upon 
his  steel  scabbard  showed  as  the  color  of  rust.  For 
all  evidence  to  the  contrary,  she  might  be  whirling  over 
that  same  ice-track  now.  The  lying,  cowardly  hounds, 
how  they  had  maligned  the  path  for  their  own  lying, 
cowardly  ends!  Every  moment  it  was  getting  better 
and  better,  smoother  and  smoother,  and  now  she  could 


260  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

almost  swear  the  carriage  was  scarcely  moving,  so 
steady  and  comfortable  .  .  . 

"I  wonder  what  they  have  stopped  for,"  said  her 
sandy-haired  son  the  next  instant. 

Mylady  sat  up  with  a  start.  "  You  don't  say  they 
have  stopped,  Feodor?  "  she  inquired  anxiously. 

But  before  Feodor  could  answer,  the  stentorian 
"  Hee-o,  Hee-o  "  from  the  coachman  told  its  own  tale. 
The  greys  never  required  encouragement  of  whip  or 
word  once  they  were  started. 

"  What's  the  matter,  Nicolai?  "  asked  Feodor,  leaning 
out  through  the  window. 

"  The  road  is  a  quagmire  for  fifty  yards  ahead,  sir," 
was  the  sullen  reply. 

"  What's  that?  "  said  Mylady,  stridently. 

"And  we  can't  go  on,"  added  Nicolai. 

"Can't  go  on?"  shrieked  Mylady.  "What  are  the 
beasts  made  of — sugar?  Lash  them,  Nicolai,  lash  them, 
I  tell  you." 

There  was  a  whistle  of  whipcord,  a  neigh  of  rage  and 
pain,  two  or  three  wrenches  that  bounced  Mylady  up 
and  down  like  a  shuttlecock,  and  then  again  a  sudden 
halt. 

"  The  bog  is  up  to  their  bellies,"  Mcolai  stolidly 
reported  progress. 

"  What  shall  we  do — what  shall  we  do  ?  "  wailed  My 
lady,  wringing  her  hands. 

Sandy-haired  Feodor  shrugged  his  shoulders  unsym- 
pathetically.  "  Get  them  out  while  we  can,  and  turn 
back,"  was  his  advice. 

"Can't  they  force  their  way  through  the  thicket 
on  one  side  or  the  other?"  suggested  Mylady  with  a 
flash  of  hope. 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  261 

"  The  brambles  would  rip  them  up  before  they  had 
gone  a  yard,"  replied  Feodor.  "  Don't  make  a  fuss, 
matushka,  but  let's  go  home  quietly." 

"Go  home?  And  what  about  the  ball?"  screamed 
Mylady. 

"  We  must  leave  that  for  another  time,"  said  Feodor, 
with  that  thin,  twanging  laugh  of  his.  "We  have  to 
go  back  where  we  strike  the  high-road,  which  will  bring 
us  to  the  palace  somewhere  about  midnight.  And  you 
know  it  isn't  etiquette  to  arrive  after  ten." 

Then  Mylady  had  her  say,  in  the  course  of  which 
short  cuts,  quagmires,  and  etiquette  came  in  for  most 
unkindly  mention.  And  while  the  beautiful  lips  spat 
forth  toads  of  abuse,  and  the  delicate  hands  clawed 
the  air  in  impotent  desperation,  Mylady's  dutiful  son 
wriggled  in  the  corner  of  the  carriage,  choking  with 
inextinguishable  laughter.  That  was  how  his  mother's 
outbursts  of  rage  always  affected  him.  And  it  was 
really  very  thoughtful  and  considerate  of  her  to  do 
something  to  beguile  the  tedium  of  the  homeward 
journey,  for  the  horses  ambled  along  at  a  funeral  pace, 
having  got  more  or  less  crippled  in  extricating  them 
selves  from  the  glutinous  slush.  But  the  observations 
that  Mylady  had  let  fall  on  the  way  were  mere  'pren 
tice  work  to  her  efforts  when  she  reached  home,  and 
talked  the  matter  over  with  her  husband.  Among 
other  things  she  threatened  to  prosecute  him  for  at 
tempted  murder,  inasmuch  as  he,  being  district  Prefect 
of  police,  allowed  promiscuous  and  unconsidered  quag 
mires  to  lie  about,  a  snare  and  a  pitfall  to  trustful 
travellers.  This  was  a  remark  which  the  Prefect 
thought  very  much  to  the  point.  He  was  a  man  most 


262  STRANGEBS  AT  THE  GATE 

conscientious  in  doing  the  things  that  pertained  to  his 
own  comfort,  and  foreseeing  the  possibility  of  his  wife's 
having  again  occasion  to  use  the  short  cut,  he  took 
measures  accordingly.  The  next  morning  he  ordered 
his  secretary  to  set  up  a  formidable  report  of  a  catas 
trophe,  in  which  a  huge  probable  loss  of  human  life  was 
averted  only  by  his  presence  of  mind  and  faithful 
application  to  duty;  but  that  the  countryside  in  ques 
tion  was  in  a  most  precarious  condition  and  in  constant 
danger  of  a  landslip,  and  unless  it  was  attended  to  at 
once,  he  would  not  answer  for  the  consequences. 

So  Mylady  was  foiled  in  her  expectations  of  being 
undisturbedly  indiscreet  at  the  Governor's  ball,  and 
the  Hetman  gnawed  his  moustache  all  night,  and  cursed 
the  inconstancy  of  woman.  But  this  is  the  inner  his 
tory  of  the  events  that  led  to  the  driving  of  the  new 
big  road  from  Dirschk  to  Tomalov. 


II 

The  news  of  the  projected  enterprise  spread  rapidly, 
and  poured  joy  into  the  towns  and  villages  along  the 
intended  route.  Everybody  saw  the  commercial  value 
of  being  contiguous  to  what  would  probably  develop 
into  a  great  artery  of  highway  traffic;  those  of  a  more 
sanguine  disposition  even  opined  that  the  road  was 
only  the  forerunner  of  something  better,  and  that  in 
no  very  long  time  to  come  the  steam-horse  would  go 
puffing  past,  converting  their  fifth-rate  little  township 
into  a  world's  fair  twice  the  size  of  Nijni-Novgorod. 
However  that  might  be,  there  could  be  not  an  atom 
of  doubt  as  to  the  immediate  benefits  to  be  derived 


THE  KOAD-MAKERS  263 

from  the  actual  building  of  the  road.  There  would 
be  work  and  to  spare  during  the  whole  summer  for  any 
one  who  had  but  a  hand  and  a  foot;  wages  would  be 
paid  in  silver  rouble  pieces,  and  the  country  for  miles 
around  would  be  musical  with  the  tinkle  of  coin. 
Which  is  the  music  best  suited  to  set  the  heart  dancing. 
And,  indeed,  something  of  the  sort  was  urgently  needed. 
The  outlook  ahead  was  very  black  for  the  preponder 
ating  multitudes,  whose  hands  are  in  constant  danger 
of  forgetting  the  way  to  their  mouths,  and  the  year 
showed  every  promise  of  being  an  unusually  lean  and 
hungry  one.  A  phenomenal  period  of  frost  had  bitten 
dead  the  potatoes  without  leaving  the  faintest  hope  of 
doctoring  them  into  marketableness;  the  turnips,  out  of 
pure  tender-heartedness,  it  would  seem,  had  followed 
them  to  destruction;  and  where  potatoes  and  turnips 
had  gone  under,  it  would  have  been  folly  to  expect 
delicately  constitutioned  cereals  to  make  anything  of 
a  show.  Nor  was  it  any  use  pinning  one's  faith  to  the 
wheat  harvest.  The  farmers  knew  from  bitter  experi 
ence  that  what  the  winter  blight  had  spared  would  fall 
a  victim  to  summer  droughts;  for  these  two  usually 
worked  in  collaboration,  with  a  nice  eye  to  the  metereo- 
logical  average.  Well,  for  this  once  the  poor  were  safe; 
they  could  stand  gibing  and  jeering  at  the  famine  fiend 
as  he  slunk  by,  yapping  with  gaunt  jaws  and  shaking  a 
skeleton  fist  in  angry  impotence  at  the  prey  that  had 
escaped  him.  He  had  reckoned  without  one  who  was 
mightier  than  he,  even  the  mighty  White  Czar — the 
same  who  kept  all  their  names  in  his  pocketbook  so 
that  he  might  send  for  them,  when  conscription  time 
came  round,  and  teach  them  how  to  die  for  him.  And 


264  STBANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

now  he  had  hit  on  this  grand  idea  of  the  new  road  to 
enable  them  to  live  for  him.  Long  rule  the  great 
Little  Father! 

However,  there  was  one  man  who  was  convinced  in 
his  own  mind  that  he,  and  he  alone,  was  responsible 
for  this  universal  godsend,  and  that  the  others  only 
benefited  by  the  grace  specially  vouchsafed  unto  him. 
The  man  who  thus  boldly  claimed  a  place  in  history 
was  Yossel  Plonski,  a  Jewish  resident  of  Ushansk,  and 
greatly  in  want  of  money.  For  months  past  he  had 
been  pestering  heaven  to  extricate  him  from  the  pre 
dicament  in  which  he  was  caught,  and  the  building  of 
the  new  road  was,  of  course,  the  response  to  his  prayer 
ful  importunities.  It  happened  in  this  wise.  On  the 
last  day  of  the  Feast  of  Dedication  the  said  Yossel  had 
betrothed  in  marriage  his  daughter  Milkah,  his  one 
and  only  child,  and — of  his  own  accord,  he  had  to 
admit — had  inserted  in  the  betrothal  contract  a  clause 
promising  her  a  hundred  roubles  for  dowry.  But  that 
was  before  the  frost-blight  had  killed  all  trade  for  the 
year,  and  left  Yossel,  who  earned  a  livelihood  by  hawk 
ing  from  farm  to  farm,  to  face  the  future  as  upright  as 
he  could  with  that  crushing  liability  on  his  back.  And 
what  was  worse,  the  reserve  fund,  which  was  to  have 
gone  a  good  way  towards  meeting  it,  had  to  be  trenched 
upon,  and  presently  began  to  wear  a  rather  peaky  look. 
But  then  Yossel  bethought  himself  that  if  marriages 
were  made  in  heaven,  it  was  only  fair  that  dowries 
should  be  made  there  as  well.  So  he  set  the  three 
patriarchs,  who  also  had  married  off  a  daughter  or  two 
in  their  time,  and  knew  what  it  meant,  to  intercede  for 
him,  with  the  result  already  stated.  Yossel  was  among 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  265 

the  first  to  hear  of  the  manifesto  for  unskilled  labor 
and  among  the  first  to  apply  for  employment.  How 
ever,  he  applied  without  consulting  his  daughter,  and 
only  told  her  about  it  when  he  could  simultaneously 
inform  her  that  his  application  had  been  successful. 

Milkah  heard  him,  and  her  deep  eyes  seemed  to  eddy 
like  a  well  into  which  somebody  has  thrown  a  stone. 

"  But,  father,  you  are  not  going  for  a  stonebreaker, 
are  you?  "  she  asked  in  pained  surprise. 

"And  why  not  for  a  stonebreaker?"  Yossel  asked 
jovially  in  return. 

"Because — because  you  are  not  so  young  as  you 
were,"  replied  Milkah,  hesitatingly. 

"  Nor  so  old  as  I  shall  be,"  laughed  Yossel.  "  That 
is  a  foolish  reason  for  a  daughter  of  mine." 

"  Well,  then,  I  shall  give  you  a  wiser.  There  is  no 
necessity  for  you  to  do  this.  With  what  we  have  left, 
you  can  sit  comfortably  at  home,  and  wait  for  the  good 
times  to  come  round  again." 

"  And  Baruch,  and  your  marriage  that  is  to  be  in 
five  months,  and  the  dowry  that  is  set  down  in  the 
contract?" 

"Baruch  will  not  claim  it,  I  can  vouch  for  that, 
father,"  said  Milkah,  blushing  a  little. 

Yossel  noted  the  blush,  and  drew  his  own  conclusions 
from  it. 

"  That  is  the  way  with  all  girls,  and  your  mother — 
may  she  rest  softly  in  Paradise — was  just  the  same," 
he  remarked  with  affected  indignation.  "  They  think 
that  the  man  who  gets  them  fills  his  house  with  such 
untold  treasure  that  they  wonder  where  he  can  still 
find  room  for  a  single  copeck  piece,  and  when  there  is 


266  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

a  talk  of  roubles,  she  suspects  at  once  that  the  lover's 
vows  he  breathes  into  her  ear  are  really  meant  for  her 
father's  pockets." 

"  Can  you  blame  her  for  it?  "  smiled  Milkah. 

"Well,  no,  not  exactly/'  stammered  Yossel,  taken 
aback;  "  but  then,  who1  can  ever  blame  youth  for  being 
unwise?  God  made  it  so  purposely,  so  that  it  might 
find  out  for  itself  what  life  is  like.  Of  course,  while  a 
woman  pleases  her  husband's  eye,  it  makes  no  great 
difference  whether  she  has  brought  him  anything  be 
sides  herself  or  not.  But  I  am  thinking  of  the  time 
when  she  is  not  so  young  as  she  was,"  and  Yossel's 
eyes  twinkled.  "It  is  then  that  the  roubles  come  in 
useful.  It  was  not  her  fault  that  he  married  her;  he 
must  blame  the  roubles  that  enticed  him." 

Milkah  laughed,  but  presently  she  answered  gravely: 

"If  Baruch  will  have  any  fault  to  find  with  me,  I 
would  much  rather  he  blamed  me,  though  there  were 
a  thousand  others  willing  to  take  the  blame  on  them 
selves.  I  should  want  no  scapegoat." 

Yossel  made  a  comical  gesture  of  discontent.  "  Limb 
of  disobedience,"  he  exclaimed  in  mock  reproof,  "to 
turn  on  your  father  with  such  a  ready  mouth!  But  I 
shall  confuse  you  yet.  Thus  far  I  have  spoken  of  the 
case  only  as  it  concerns  you;  now  I  must  stand  on  my 
own  ground.  You  remember,  I  suppose,  that  the  clause 
as  to  the  dowry  was  put  in  of  my  own  initiative." 

"  Which  is  all  the  more  reason  why  you  should  not 
consider  yourself  bound  by  it,"  said  Milkah. 

Yossel  looked  at  her  cunningly.  "  That  is  what  you 
think,"  he  replied  finally.  "  But  it  is  just  because  I 
made  the  promise  of  my  free  will  that  I  may  say  I 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  267 

hanged  myself  with  a  rope  of  my  own  twisting.  If  I 
had  been  forced  into  the  condition,,  it  would  have  "been 
my  duty  as  a  self-respecting  man  of  business  to  take 
advantage  of  your  Baruch's  stupidness  and  keep  the 
money  in  my  own  coffers.  But  I  gave  my  uncom- 
pelled  word,  and  that  makes  it  a  matter  of  honor  that 
I  should  not  depart  from  it.  You  see,  my  word  is  my 
only  capital.  IsTow,  a  rich  man  need  not  keep  his  word, 
because  he  can  keep  his  money  instead.  If  the  poor 
man  does  not  keep  his  word,  well,  then,  he  becomes 
still  more  of  a  poor  man  than  he  was  before." 

By  such  sophistries  Yossel  tried  to  disguise  from  his 
daughter  how  he  had  set  his  heart  on  giving  the  hus 
band  of  this  one  motherless  ewe-lamb  of  his  a  good 
start  in  life,  knowing  that  the  start  meant  everything. 
But  Milkah  did  not  let  herself  be  deceived  for  a 
moment,  and  only  wondered  that  with  one  such  man 
to  love,  it  should  ever  have  entered  her  head  to  bestow 
a  single  heart  throb  on  a  second. 

The  promptitude  wherewith  the  road  operations  were 
taken  in  hand  bordered  on  the  miraculous.  Scarcely 
two  months  had  passed  since  the  Prefect's  report  had 
gone  in,  and  already  sufficient  freestone  had  been 
hewn  from  the  famous  hillside  quarries  four  miles  east 
of  Tomalov  to  make  a  good  start  with  the  work. 
Yossel  was  not  employed  at  the  quarries,  but  was  told 
off  to  one  of  the  road-gangs  stationed  in  relays  along 
the  projected  route.  He  had  been  fortunate  in  as  far 
as  he  began  to  earn  wages  from  the  very  outset  of  the 
work — indeed,  in  after-life  he  went  about  bragging 
that  it  had  been  deputed  to  him  to  inaugurate  the 
whole  enterprise,  as  it  was  his  pick  that  had  struck 


268  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

the  initial  stroke.  His  good  fortune  was  due  to  the 
fact  that  Ushansk  was  the  village  nearest  to  Tomalov, 
which  was  the  starting  point  of  the  new  road,  and 
where  it  branched  out  of  the  main  road,  of  which  it 
was  an  off-shoot — the  same  main  road  which  the  Pre 
fect's  wife  had  refused  to  take  owing  to  its  labyrinthine 
vagaries.  With  rare  considerateness,  which  strongly 
accentuated  the  providential  aspect  of  the  whole  thing, 
the  authorities  had  decreed  that  each  navvy  should  be 
posted  as  near  as  possible  to  his  domicile,  so  as  to 
facilitate  his  arrangements  for  night  accommodation 
and  commissariat.  And  so  the  residents  of  Ushansk, 
being  closest  to  the  quarry  pits  as  well  as  to  Tomalov, 
had  an  advantage  over  the  natives  of  the  villages  fur 
ther  down  the  route  in  being  served  before  all  others 
by  the  transports  with  the  boulders  that  gave  their 
hammers  exercise  and  their  pockets  a  silver  lining. 
And  the  other  villages,  of  course,  were  proportionately 
jealous. 

About  a  week  after  the  work  had  got  into  swing,  the 
Ushansk  gang  was  reinforced  by  a  man  who  was  a 
stranger  to  one  and  all  of  them.  But  beyond  a  cur 
sory  glance  or  two  of  curiosity,  his  arrival  attracted 
little  notice.  For  the  laborers  formed  a  hotch-potch 
gathering,  to  which  the  four  corners  of  the  earth 
seemed  to  have  made  a  point  of  contributing.  It  was 
seen,  however,  that  he  was  of  almost  gigantic  stature, 
with  shoulders  to  match.  His  face,  too,  was  remark 
able,  inasmuch  as  it  possessed  none  of  the  character 
istics  of  the  Mujik  type,  as  one  might  expect  in  a  man 
who  broke  stones  for  a  living.  He  had  rather  a  frank 
and  open  look,  and  his  lips  did  not  appear  to  require 


THE  KOAD-MAKERS  269 

much  provocation  for  expanding  into  a  smile,  despite 
the  touch  of  sadness  that  lurked  far  down  in  his  eyes. 
His  age  might  have  been  anything  between  thirty  and 
fort}',  with  the  balance  in  favor  of  the  latter.  He  re 
paid  the  indifference  wherewith  his  appearance  was 
treated  by  an  indifference  as  great,  and  went  about  his 
work  with  a  cordial  good-will.  There  could  be  no 
doubt  about  his  tremendous  strength;  for  he  wielded 
his  hammer  with  either  hand,  as  easily  as  a  child  might 
handle  its  little  spoon  to  fish  the  sops  from  out  of  the 
milk-bowl. 

Chance  made  him  Yossel's  immediate  neighbor. 
They  had  been  working  side  by  side  for  two  hours  with 
out  the  interchange  of  a  word,  when  the  stranger  be 
came  aware  of  something  in  Yossel  that  perplexed  him 
considerably.  It  was  YossePs  attitude  of  body  while 
working. 

"  Why  do  you  squat  on  your  haunches  like  a  frog 
ready  for  the  jump?"  asked  the  stranger  after  some 
hesitation.  "  Why  don't  you  kneel  as  I  do?  It's  easier 
and  more  comfortable." 

Yossel  turned  round,  startled,  but  only  a  very  little. 
The  speaker's  mode  of  address,  though  somewhat 
brusque,  showed  no  trace  of  impertinence  or  malignity. 
But  for  all  that  Yossel  did  not  find  his  question  easy  to 
answer,  for  it  involved  a  point  he  did  not  care  to  dis 
cuss  with  a  man  of  alien  faith  with  whom  he  was 
conversing  for  the  first  time  in  his  life.  So  he  pre 
varicated. 

"Why  I  don't  kneel?  Oh,  because  I  have  a  bruise 
on  my  left  knee,"  he  said. 

"  Well,  then,  why  don't  you  spread  your  coat  under- 


270  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

neath  for  a  cushion?"  advised  the  stranger.  "Here, 
take  mine  as  well — that  will  make  it  thicker  and 
softer." 

Embarrassed  Yossel  fumbled  in  his  mind  for  an  an 
swer;  but  the  next  instant  the  stranger  again  drew  his 
attention  by  an  exclamation  of  wonder. 

"  Why,  there  are  a  number  crouching  like  you,"  said 
the  stranger,  looking  about  him.  "  Is  there  an  epi 
demic  of  sore  knees  in  these  parts?"  And  then  a 
smile  of  intelligence  broke  over  his  face,  as  he  con 
tinued:  "Dolt  that  I  am — all  you  that  crouch  are 
Jews,  and  your  crouching  is  a  sign  for  you  to  know 
each  other  by.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

By  this  time  YossePs  mind  was  made  up.  The 
stranger  had  stumbled  as  far  as  the  half-truth,  which 
was  a  dangerous  halting-place  to  leave  him  at.  And, 
moreover,  Yossel  did  not  like  his  allusion  to  precon 
certed  signs  of  recognition,  which  might  so  easily  be 
misconstrued  in  a  country  ruled  by  suspicion  and 
tyranny.  But  he  would  furnish  the  true  explanation,, 
chiefly  because  his  questioner  seemed  likely  to  listen  to 
it  with  an  indulgent  and  dispassionate  ear. 

"  You  are  right  as  to  our  being  Jews,"  began  Yossel, 
in  his  fragmentary  Eussian,  "  and  that,  in  a  way,  is  the 
reason  why  we  sit  on  our  haunches  while  we  work, 
instead  of  resting  on  our  knees.  For  you  may  know 
that  we  have  been  commanded  by  our  God  to  keep 
ourselves  separate  and  apart  from  the  Gentiles  and  not 
to  imitate  their  customs  and  habits.  And  especially  we 
may  not  bend  the  knee,  because  that  is  what  you 
Gentiles  do  when  you  pray  to  your  God." 

"And  you  hold  with  the  adage  that  'laborare  est 


THE  KOAD-MAKERS  271 

orare/"  interposed  the  stranger,  smiling  thought 
fully. 

Yossel  had  no  idea  what  that  meant,  nor  did  he 
pretend  to  have,  but  went  on  unperturbedly  with  his 
parable. 

"  Only  on  three  days  in  the  year  are  we  permitted  to 
kneel,  on  the  days  whereon  we  supplicate  to  have  our 
trespasses  forgiven,  and  God  sits  in  judgment  upon 
His  people.  However,  that  is  a  practice  dating  back  to 
the  time  of  King  Solomon's  temple,  long  before  Chris 
tians  were  thought  of.  And  that  is  why  it  is  not  con 
sidered  an  imitation  of  their  ways,  as  the  other  would 
be." 

"  Very  curious,  very  curious,"  muttered  the  stranger 
to  himself.  And  then  speaking  aloud  he  said: 

"But  the  fatigue  must  be  double  like  that — your 
back  must  ache  terribly." 

Yossel  laughed,  almost  in  triumph.  "  We  have  ached 
worse  than  that;  we  have  been  strapped  to  the  rack  a 
thousand  times,  and  our  backs  are  not  yet  broken." 

"  Very  true,  very  true,"  muttered  the  other  to  him 
self,  as  he  had  done  before. 

And  after  that  nothing  more  was  said  between  the 
two,  till  the  overseer's  whistle  sounded  for  dinner. 
The  big  stranger  sat  down  on  a  granite  block,  unslung 
his  red  handkerchief,  and  took  from  it  a  lump  of  curd 
cheese,  an  onion,  and  a  chunk  of  black  bread.  He 
glanced  at  Yossel,  who  stood  drying  his  forehead  with 
his  shirtsleeves  and  looking  eagerly  towards  the  village. 

"Hey,  comrade,  do  you  call  eating  also  walking  in 
the  ways  of  fhe  Gentiles?"  exclaimed  the  stranger, 
jestingly. 


272  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

"No,  I  am  waiting  for  something  better  than  you 
have  got,"  replied  Yossel  in  the  same  vein;  "I  have 
my  meal  brought  to  me  from  the  village.  It  is  a  little 
late  to-day." 

But  not  very  much  later,  for  scarcely  had  Yossel 
finished  speaking,  when  Milkah  hove  in  sight,  step 
ping  as  fast  as  she  could  without  spilling  the  con 
tents  of  the  steaming  saucepan  she  carried.  And  pres 
ently  she  stood  before  him,  stroking  his  heated  face 
with  a  cool  hand,  and  overwhelming  him  with  loving 
reproaches  for  taking  on  himself  so  onerous  a  toil  for 
her  own  selfish  sake.  Yossel  heard  her  complacently, 
for  her  reproaches  were  an  everyday  occurrence,  and 
he  knew  better  than  to  let  them  spoil  his  appetite. 
And  so,  while  her  hand  played  amid  his  sweat-sodden 
hair,  he  did  full  justice  to  the  savory  stew  of  barley 
and  potatoes,  flavored  with  leek  and  a  piece  of  ox-shin 
boiled  into  shreds.  Indeed,  he  was  more  than  half 
way  through  with  his  meal,  before  he  bethought  him 
self  again  of  his  new  acquaintance.  He  turned  on 
him  with  a  smile,  which  was  wasted,  because  the 
stranger's  gaze  hung,  pent  and  tense,  on  Milkah.  He 
sat  there,  his  clasp-knife  with  a  morsel  of  cheese  on 
the  tip  of  it  suspended  midway  to  his  mouth,  as 
though  he  had  forgotten  what  he  was  about  to  do  with 
it.  Yossel  watched  him  thus,  half  in  amusement,  half 
in  pride,  because  there  was  nothing  in  the  manner  of 
the  stranger's  scrutiny  of  Milkah  to  cause  the  father 
of  any  daughter  a  moment's  annoyance  or  disquietude. 
And  further,  when  the  eyes  of  the  two  men  eventually 
met,  the  younger  showed  no  irritation,  no  discomposure, 
which  might  be  natural  in  one  who  had  been  surprised 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  273 

in  some  discreditable  back-thought.  With  a  short  nod 
at  Yossel,  he  carried  the  clasp-knife  to  his  lips,  and  his 
jaws  moved  stolidly. 

"My  daughter/'  said  Yossel,  jerking  his  head  at 
Milkah  in  a  way  that  might  have  served  either  as  expla 
nation  of  her  presence  or  as  introduction. 

The  stranger  evidently  took  it  for  the  latter,  and  to 
this  Milkah  was  indebted  for  being  able  to  add  a  novel 
experience  to  the  few  her  life  had  accumulated  so  far. 
For  the  next  instant  the  stranger  had  risen  to  his  feet, 
and  was  bowing  to  her  with  stately  courtesy,  just  as, 
peeping  through  the  railings,  she  had  seen  the  gentle 
men  bow  to  the  ladies  in  the  Prefect's  park  at  Tomalov. 
She  had  often  wondered  what  it  must  feel  like  to  be 
bowed  to  in  that  way;  and  now  that  she  knew,  she  won 
dered  that  the  ladies  who  promenaded  in  the  Prefect's 
park  did  not  carry  their  noses  twice  as  high  as  they 
did.  But  more  than  that  it  exercised  her  mind,  how 
it  had  come  that  a  man  who  knew  how  to  curtsy  like 
that  should  be  making  his  dinner  off  raw  onions.  And 
then  her  thoughts  veered  round  to  Baruch,  and  a  vague 
sense  of  guilt  came  over  her  for  having  allowed  herself 
a  passing  interest  in  the  history  of  another  man,  even 
though  his  gestures  might  be  as  graceful  as  those  of 
a  Parisian  dancing-master's.  She  would  write  Baruch 
her  confession  of  it,  and  ask  his  forgiveness  that  very 
evening.  For  Baruch  lived  at  Wilna,  where  he  was 
struggling  to  set  a  small  hosiery  business  on  its  legs, 
and  visited  his  fiancee  only  at  irregular  intervals.  And 
thus  having  salved  her  conscience,  she  hurried  back 
home  as  soon  as  her  father  had  finished  with  the  sauce 
pan.  She  had  not  acknowledged  the  stranger's  elab- 


274  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

orate  salute  save  by  a  momentary  flushing  of  the 
cheek. 

The  acquaintance  between  Yossel  and  the  stranger 
took  rapid  strides  towards  intimacy.  After  several 
days  Yossel  actually  knew  that  the  other's  name  was 
Sergius,  that  he  came  from  nowhere  in  particular,  and 
that  his  identity  was  of  no  importance  to  any  one. 
An'd  Yossel  was  quite  satisfied  with  that,  for,  after  all, 
he  knew  that  Sergius  was  only  a  bird  of  passage,  who 
would  fly  out  of  his  ken  as  soon  as  the  task  which  had 
mated  them  together  had  been  brought  to  a  finish. 
And,  meanwhile,  it  was  very  pleasant  to  have  in  your 
immediate  neighborhood  an  Orthodox  Kussian  who  did 
not,  at  every  turn,  call  you  Christ-slayer  and  thief,  and 
who,  moreover,  protected  you  from  the  opprobrium  of 
the  others.  This  last  was  the  consideration  that  in 
clined  also  Milkah  to  show  herself  more  affable  to  the 
stranger,  though  at  first  there  was  something  in  his 
subdued,  almost  dog-like,  demeanor  whenever  she 
favored  him  with  a  word  or  look  that  distressed  her. 
But,  as  the  days  went  on,  she  became  familiar  with 
the  feeling,  and  looked  upon  this  strangely  defer 
ential  attitude  of  his  as  a  habit  natural  to  the  man, 
and  not  as  a  peculiarity  that  ought  to  trouble  her. 
This  was  probably  the  way  in  which  he  treated  all 
women  he  came  across,  and  she  was  not  important 
enough  that  he  should  make  an  exception  in  her  case. 
Besides,  the  main  point  was  that  her  father  should  get 
his  dinner  regularly,  and  compared  with  that  the  ques 
tion  whether  and  why  the  stranger  behaved  to  her  as  he 
did,  was  altogether  immaterial. 

One  day,  however,  Milkah  came  with  the  customary 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  275 

saucepan,  without  finding  her  father  in  his  usual  place. 
But  before  she  had  had  time  to  grow  anxious,  she 
was  informed  by  Sergius  that,  owing  to  a  sudden  emer 
gency,  Yossel  with  some  others  had  been  sent  down  to 
the  quarries. 

"  To  the  quarries  ?  "  echoed  Milkah,  with  a  troubled 
look.  "Then  what  will  he  eat  all  day?" 

Sergius  seemed  to  have  been  waiting  for  the  ques 
tion.  "If  you  will  trust  me  with  the  saucepan,"  he 
began. 

Milkah  quickly  shook  her  head.  Her  father,  stub 
born  in  his  adherence  to  the  traditional  law,  would 
never  eat  the  food  which  had  been  brought  to  him  by 
the  hand  of  a  Gentile. 

"  It  is  three  quarters  of  an  hour  to  the  quarries,  and 
you  ought  not  to  deprive  yourself  of  your  midday  rest," 
she  gave  as  an  equally  valid  reason  for  her  refusal  of 
his  offer.  "  I  have  nothing  else  to  do;  I  shall  take  it 
there  myself." 

"  But  you  would  not  know  where  to  find  him,"  said 
Sergius,  quickly;  "  the  quarries  are  a  mile  long." 

"Then  how  would  you  find  him?"  asked  Milkah, 
dismayed  at  the  new  difficulty. 

"  I  should  know  where  to  look,"  was  his  brief  reply. 
And  then  a  new  idea  seemed  to  strike  him,  and  he 
added  eagerly: 

"  Let  me  guide  you  there." 

Milkah  considered.     It  was  true,  the  man  wanted  his 

short  rest;  but  then,  her  father  wanted  his  dinner,  and 

it  did  not  take  her  long  to  decide  which  consideration 

outweighed  the  other.     She  turned  to  him  resolutely. 

"  Well,  then,  if  you  will  be  so  good,"  she  said;  "  but 


276  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

remember,  you  must  protect  me,  if  father  gives  me  a 
scolding  for  having  troubled  you.  You  know  it  was 
your  own  choice." 

Sergius  gave  a  laugh  that  seemed  to  draw  an  echo 
from   the   stone   piles   around   him.     And   then   they 
started  oft',  Sergius  carefully  adjusting  his  pace  to  that 
of  Milkah,  without  having  to  give  himself  scant  meas 
ure  at  that;  for  Milkah  remembered  that  the  contents 
of  her  saucepan  were  getting  cold.     Sergius,  sure  of 
his  audience  this  time,  told  her  what  had  led  to  Yossel's 
being  shifted  from  his  customary  station.     There  had 
been,  as  she  knew,  a  thunder-storm  in  the  night,  and 
the  short,  but  heavy,  rainfall  had  filled  the   quarry 
hollows  to  the  very  brim;  and  Yossel  had  been  one  of 
the  contingent  despatched  to  assist  in  baling  them  out. 
The  week  before  the  same  thing  had  occurred,  and 
then  it  had  been  Sergius'  turn  to  go  down  to  the  quar 
ries.     These,  no  doubt,  were  the  identical  hollows,  and 
hence  his  assurance  of  being  able  to  lay  his  finger  on 
Yossel  in  a  moment,  whereas  Milkah  would  have  had 
to  blunder  along  the  whole  range  of  the  hillside,  asking 
questions  and  by  no  means  certain  of  helpful  or  parlia 
mentary  replies.     And  as  Milkah  listened  to  him,  she 
suddenly  became  aware  that  she  owed  her  companion  a 
greater  debt  of  gratitude  than  she  had  had  time  or 
inclination  to  acknowledge  to  herself.     But,  withal,  she 
felt  a  curious  dislike  to  be  under  an  obligation  to  him; 
nothing  would  have  pleased  her  more  than  to  repay 
him,  and  cry  quits  with  him  at  once.     The  next  instant 
her   eye  lighted   on  the   blood-stained  rag  about  his 
wrist  that  just  then  peeped  out  from  under  his  frayed 
coat-sleeve.    Here  was  her  opportunity. 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  277 

"  You  have  hurt  yourself/'  she  said,  pointing  to  the 
bandage. 

"  Nothing  much,"  he  replied  eagerly;  "  I  slipped  and 
fell  on  a  flint.  It  is  healing." 

<c  This  will  make  it  heal  more  quickly/'  said  Milkah, 
diving  in  her  pocket  and  fetching  out  a  strip  of  arnica 
plaster;  "I  always  have  some  about  with  me — in  case 
father  requires  it"  she  added  in  explanation. 

He  took  it  avidly,  and  thanked  her  as  effusively  as 
though  she  had  been  the  immediate  means  of  preserv 
ing  his  life.  But  he  forgot  to  apply  it,  and  she  did 
not  remind  him.  It  would  have  meant  a  minute's 
delay.  And  her  poor  old  father  would  be  famishing 
as  it  was. 

Sergius  was  full  of  his  thoughts,  and  Milkah  was 
husbanding  her  breath  for  the  effort  of  the  walk,  and 
so  the  remainder  of  the  journey  was  accomplished 
almost  in  silence.  Sergius  varied,  or  rather  enriched, 
his  stock  of  meditations  by  an  occasional  sidelong 
glance  at  the  girl.  He  had  seen  her  once  every  day 
for  the  last  fortnight,  and  yet  to-day  she  came  on  him 
as  a  bewildering  revelation.  He  knew  how  beautiful 
she  was,  but  not  how  beautiful  she  could  be.  For  that 
he  had  had  to  wait  till  the  sun-bloom  came  and  laid 
itself  lovingly  upon  the  usual  pallor  of  her  face,  kissing 
it  into  a  tint  of  roses,  and  softening  the  curve  of  cheek 
and  chin  with  caressing  touch.  More  furtively,  as 
though  with  a  stronger  sense  of  the  forbidden,  he  per 
mitted  himself  a  glance  at  the  gleaming  alabaster  of 
her  arm,  shimmering  forth  dazzlingly  through  the  thin 
muslin  blouse — the  blouse,  the  present  from  her 
Baruch,  which  had  arrived  that  very  morning,  and 


278  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

which  she  had  donned  for  her  father's  admiration.  And 
from  the  arm  Sergius's  gaze  travelled  further  down 
ward,  until  it  stopped  at  the  narrow  gold  hoop  encir 
cling  the  forefinger  of  her  left  hand.  And  with  that 
his  heart  also  made  a  momentary  halt,  as  it  always  did, 
when  the  sight  of  the  gold  hoop  troubled  him  with  mis 
givings  as  to  its  meaning.  And  then  the  query  escaped 
him  unawares — he  would  never  have  had  the  courage 
to  ask  it  deliberately. 

"  The  ring — what  it  means?  "  echoed  Milkah,  calmly. 
"  It  means  nothing." 

To  her  understanding  the  reply  was  innocent  of  all 
quibble.  Of  what  significance  indeed  was  this  ring, 
the  outward  token  of  her  pledge  to  Baruch,  to  any  one 
save  to  Baruch  and  herself?  Least  of  all  did  it  con 
cern  the  stranger  at  her  side.  But  Sergius  seized  on 
the  letter  of  her  words,  and  he  had  hard  work  to  choke 
back  the  cry  of  exultation,  just  as  it  was  about  to  force 
itself  vent. 

Ten  minutes  more  and  the  quarry  lay  before  them. 

"  There  he  is,"  exclaimed  Milkah,  her  keen  young 
eye  instantly  picking  Yossel  out  from  the  nearest 
group  of  men.  "  Don't  come  any  farther.  He  will  be 
very  grateful  to  you." 

"And  you?"  ventured  Sergius,  smilingly. 

"  I,  of  course,  as  well,"  answered  Milkah,  not  know 
ing  whose  was  the  rudeness — hers  for  having  forgotten, 
or  his  for  having  reminded  her. 

Sergius  did  not  turn  back  immediately,  but  covered 
the  few  yards  between  him  and  the  jutting  rock  spur, 
at  the  point  where  the  hillside  fell  down  most  sheer 
and  precipitous  into  the  valley  beyond.  He  had  stood 


THE  EOAD-MAKERS  279 

at  the  same  spot  a  week  ago.,  and  had  seriously  delib 
erated  with  himself  whether  there  was  any  valid  reason 
why  he  should  not  take  the  one  step  forward,  and  have 
done  with  it  all — have  done  with  the  nagging  memories 
of  the  might-have-been,  and  the  chafing  outlook  on  an 
unprofitable,  purposeless  future.  Just  that  one  step 
forward;  death  was  the  only  progress  in  life  he  could 
hope  to  make.  But  he  had  refrained;  he  would  give 
himself  another  respite.  The  same  door  was  always 
open  to  him.  And  he  had  been  right;  everybody  said 
that  patience  was  a  very  good  thing,  and  it  is  always 
darkest  before  dawn.  To-day  the  height  on  which  he 
stood  was  not  put  there  for  a  convenient  leap  into  the 
devil's  arms,  but  was  an  eminence  fit  for  a  man  whose 
hope  was  lifting  him  towards  the  clouds,  and  who  felt 
a  king  in  a  world  of  grovelling  worms. 

He  turned  away  slowly,  falling  presently  into  a  rapid 
stride,  which  broke  into  a  breathless  run  as  soon  as  he 
was  out  of  sight  of  the  quarrymen.  And  so  he  ran, 
taking  prodigious  bites  out  of  the  hunk  of  black  bread 
he  had  stuffed  into  his  pocket  at  Milkah's  approach, 
devouring  it  partly  to  satisfy  his  hunger,  but  more  to 
stifle  the  shouts  of  joy,  which  were  forcing  themselves 
up  again,  and  would  have  made  him  seem  an  escaped 
lunatic  to  any  chance  passer-by.  For  resuming  work 
half  an  hour  late,  the  overseer  docked  his  wages  for 
the  Say,  and  put  the  fine  into  his  own  pocket.  Sergius 
did  not  complain;  on  the  contrary,  he  laughed  at  having 
to  pay  so  cheaply  for  a  pleasure  for  which  he  would 
have  been  afraid  to  name  his  own  price.  Why,  the 
strip  of  arnica  plaster  alone  more  than  fully  covered 
the  loss. 


280  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

If  Sergius  had  been  afraid  of  appearing  demented  in 
the  daytime,  he  would  have  given  still  more  cause  for 
it  to  any  stray  onlooker  who  could  have  watched  him 
that  night  in  the  wretched  loam-hut  he  had  rented  for 
twenty  copecks  a  week.  What  could  any  one  have 
made  out  of  him,  squatting  on  his  haunches  in  the 
middle  of  his  hut,  and  hammering  into  fragments  a 
huge  granite  block  he  had  brought  with  him  from  the 
road?  But  Sergius  knew.  He  remembered  that  the 
attitude  involved  some  question  as  to  the  way  the  peo 
ple  of  Yossel's  race  communed  with  their  God;  and  this 
was  one  of  the  things  by  which  they  meant  to  please 
Him.  He  did  not  know  much  about  this  God  of  theirs; 
but  at  all  events  it  would  be  politic  to  try  and  make  a 
good  impression  on  Him.  For  Sergius  surmised  vaguely 
that  on  the  grace  wherewith  Milkah's  God  regarded 
him  depended  the  favor  she  would  vouchsafe  to  him 
herself. 


Ill 

The  next  morning  young  Feodor,  Mylady's  straw- 
haired  son,  ate  his  breakfast  with  a  bad  appetite  and  a 
still  worse  temper.  The  day  before  he  had  suffered  a 
severe  disappointment  in  what  he  euphemistically  called 
love,  and  he  had  lain  awake  all  night  putting  ointment 
on  his  wounded  vanity,  and  nursing  his  revenge.  And 
now,  having  succeeded  in  putting  the  night  behind  him, 
his  mind  was  disagreeably  exercised  how  to  do  the  same 
with  the  long,  tedious,  fly-buzzing  summer  day,  which 
loomed  mockingly  ahead  of  him.  What  a  difficult 
thing  it  was  to  kill  time;  it  died  so  hard.  It  was  almost 


THE  KOAD-MAKERS  281 

easier  to  kill  a  man,  and  certainly  far  more  exciting. 
He  thought  scathingly  of  his  flighty-headed  little 
mother  for  having  married  into  this  third-rate  district 
capital,  where  there  was  no  Cafe  Chantant,  no  Casino,, 
none  of  the  real  necessaries  of  life.  She  ought  to 
have  known  better;  she  had  already  made  two  matri 
monial  blunders;  the  third  was  a  crime.  But  then  she 
never  considered  anybody  except  her  cwn  foolish  self. 
If  at  least  she  would  increase  the  allowance  she  made 
him,  so  that  he  could  indulge  in  an  occasional  fort 
night  at  St.  Petersburg;  yet  when  he  mentioned  the 
matter  to  her,  she  looked  aggrieved,  and  pointed  out  to 
him  the  duty  she  owed  to  Society  at  Tomalov  as  its 
leader  of  fashion.  And  yet,  she  must  be  extremely 
wealthy.  Her  first  husband  had  left  her  at  least  half  a 
million  roubles,  and  her  second  ...  A  smile  of  amuse 
ment  played  about  Feeder's  thin  lips.  Yes,  that  was  a 
joke.  The  recollection  of  it  almost  put  him  into  a 
better  humor;  at  least,  it  reminded  him  that  whatever 
might  have  happened  to  the  children  of  other  parents, 
he  at  any  rate  was  certain  of  being  his  mother's  sole 
and  single  heir. 

But  meanwhile  the  great  question  of  time-killing 
remained  still  unsolved.  He  got  up  and  lit  a  cigarette. 
Ah,  he  had  an  idea;  it  was  not  much  of  an  idea,  but, 
at  least,  it  would  dispose  of  the  morning.  And  the 
afternoon,  perhaps,  would  bring  its  own  counsel.  He 
would  go  down  and  see  how  the  new  chaussee  was  get 
ting  on.  The  sight  of  the  poor  wretches  devilling  away 
week  in,  week  out,  for  what  would  hardly  fetch  a  bottle 
of  inferior  Tokay,  would  edify  and  instruct  his  soul. 
He  was  always  susceptible  to  the  morals  of  life — as 


282  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

long  as  there  was  enough  life  and  not  too  much  morals. 
Well,  if  the  spectacle  would  only  teach  him  to  put  a 
higher  premium  on  his  unlimited  leisure,  it  would  be 
something.  At  all  events,  he  would  find  out  whether 
it  was  really  true,  that  the  sweat  of  the  worker's  brow 
is  the  salt  of  the  bread  of  idleness. 

Jauntily  he  went  out,  flicking  his  riding  whip  against 
his  top-boots.  Ten  minutes  later  he  came  upon  the 
first  group  of  laborers,  and  favored  them  with  an  inso 
lent  stare,  as  though  they  were  some  strange  kind  of 
animal  brought  there  for  his  special  delectation.  They 
all  knew  him  for  the  Prefect's  step-son,  and  touched 
their  caps  respectfully.  Presently  he  passed  Sergius. 
The  latter  was  hammering  on  automatically,  his 
thoughts  intent  on  the  happenings  of  yesterday,  and 
hearing  or  seeing  nothing  besides.  Feodor  stopped  in 
front  of  him  with  a  snarl  of  irritation. 

"  Salute,  impudent  rascal,"  he  shouted. 

Half  startled  Sergius  was  about  to  lift  his  hand  in 
mechanical  obedience,  when  a  glance  at  Feodor's  face 
made  the  blood  rush  into  his  own;  then  a  quick-drawn 
breath,  and  the  next  instant  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the 
motions  of  his  hammer  as  though  nothing  had  hap 
pened.  Feodor  himself  had  taken  a  step  or  two  back 
ward  in  his  surprise,  but  now  he  came  forward  again, 
watched  Sergius  for  a  few  moments  at  his  work,  and 
then  burst  into  a  long  guffaw,  or  at  least»  as  near  as  he 
could  get  to  it  with  that  laugh  of  his  that  twanged 
like  a  guitar. 

"This  is  an  unexpected  pleasure,  Sergius  Kourano- 
wich,"  he  said  mockingly  as  soon  as  he  could  speak. 

Sergius  went  on  with  his  hammer,  and  for  all  the 


THE  EOAD-MAKERS  283 

attention  his  face  showed,  he  might  have  been  born 
deaf  and  dumb.  Feodor  waited  a  little,  and  then  re 
sumed  in  a  voice  of  affected  reproachfulness: 

"Now,  this  isn't  fair,  Sergius  Kouranowich;  you 
don't  seem  a  bit  pleased  to  set  eyes  on  me  again  after  all 
these  long  years.  Perhaps  you  haven't  even  given  me 
an  occasional  place  in  your  thoughts.  Well,  I  was 
kinder.  I  thought  of  you  only  this  morning,  and  my 
laughing  just  now  was  due  not  to  rudeness, — you  know 
how  carefully  I  was  brought  up, — but  to  a  sudden  recol 
lection  of  the  joke  your  dear  lamented  father  played  on 
you.  I  would  swear  you  remember  that  joke  your 
self." 

Sergius  showed  as  impassive  as  the  stone  he  was 
hammering. 

"  But  you  must  not  give  your  father  the  whole  credit 
for  it,"  went  on  Feodor;  "that  belongs  to  my  mother. 
The  thing  was  really  her  invention,  as  you  may  have 
guessed  already.  You  see,  she  is  so  very  pretty,  and 
her  tastes  are  so  very  expensive,  and  your  father  surely 
could  not  do  better  with  his  money  than  leave  it  to 
her  to  buy  dresses  and  jewelry  and  make  herself  as 
beautiful  as  possible  in  a  world  where  there  is  so  much 
ugliness.  What's  that  you  are  muttering?  Did  you 
say  he  was  an  old  fool  for  all  that?" 

"  You  are  braver  than  you  deserve  to  be,"  grated 
Sergius  from  between  set  teeth. 

Feeder's  laugh  twanged  again,  and  he  took  another 
step  forward.  "You  mean  because  I  twist  the  bull's 
tail  with  no  fence  between  us,"  he  said  almost  pleas 
antly.  "  Of  course,  I  am  aware  that  you  could  batter 
my  skull  in  with  one  sweep  of  your  hammer.  But  I 


284  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

pin  my  faith  to  old  Maryashka,  who  tells  fortunes  and 
misfortunes  for  her  living.  True,  she  said  I  would  die 
a  violent  death;  that  was  a  pretty  safe  guess  of  hers. 
But  she  also  said,  and  swore  to  it,  that  the  blow  which 
sent  me  to  the  angels  would  also  despatch  my  mur 
derer.  So  if  you  kill  me,  you  will  also  have  to  die 
instanter,  if  only  to  save  Maryashka's  credit.  But  that 
creates  a  rather  difficult  situation.  I  don't  know  how 
you  propose  to  solve  it." 

And  he  affected  to  listen  with  much  curiosity  to  the 
other's  reply.  But,  of  course,  none  came. 

"  However,  you  certainly  were  foolish  in  refusing  the 
share  your  father  offered  you,"  continued  Feodor,  tap 
ping  Sergius  confidentially  on  the  shoulder.  "You 
don't  know  how  it  grieved  my  mother.  It  made  her 
think  that  you  were  annoyed  with  her,  and  she  doesn't 
like  people  to  be  that;  she  is  so  wonderfully  sensitive." 

"  The  painted  she-fiend,"  broke  with  a  roar  from 
Sergius. 

"No,  no,"  remonstrated  Feodor,  soothingly,  "how 
can  you  call  her  that,  Sergius  Kouranowich?  She  is 
really  so  very,  very  pretty,  and  her  ways  are  so  soft, 
and  her  hands  are  whiter  than  any  woman's  I  have  seen. 
And  then,  she  bears  you  no  ill-will  at  all;  on  the  con 
trary,  but  for  her  you  might  at  this  moment  be  begging 
your  bread  from  door  to  door.  You  see,  if  she  had 
not  stuck  in  the  mud  the  night  she  went  to  the  Gover 
nor's  ball,  nobody  would  have  thought  of  building  this 
road.  Shall  I  take  her  your  thanks?  You  might 
at  least  answer  me  yes  or  no;  but  then  you  never  were 
much  of  a  talker.  The  devil  and  seven  saints,"  he 
exclaimed,  clapping  his  hands  to  his  ears,  "what's 
that?" 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  285 

But  it  was  only  the  overseer's  whistle  shrilling  the 
dinner  hour  a  yard  or  two  away  from  him.  Sergius 
dropped  his  hammer,  and,  without  further  ceremony, 
out  came  the  hunk  of  black  bread,  the  cheese,  and  the 
onion. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  wish  you  a  good  appetite  for 
that,"  laughed  Feodor;  "it  would  be  cruel.  I  shall 
come  to  see  you  again,  though;  it  is  very  pleasant  to 
talk  over  the  old  times,  Sergius  Kouranowich;  don't  you 
think  so?" 

And  merrily  cracking  his  riding  whip,  he  turned  to 
go,  only,  however,  to  pause  again  after  a  yard  of  two. 
Milkah  had  just  come  up,  bringing  her  father's  dinner, 
for  Yossel  was  at  his  old  post  again.  Even  Sergius 
could  not  have  refrained  from  laughing,  had  he  seen 
the  look  of  ludicrous  astonishment  wherewith  Feodor 
fixed  the  girl  before  finally  continuing  on  his  way.  But 
Sergius'  gaze  was  turned  inward.  He  was  thinking  of 
the  malevolent  chance  which  had  jogged  awake  again 
the  aching  memories  of  things  gone  by,  just  when  time 
— or  was  it  something  else? — was  beginning  to  steep 
them  in  opiates.  The  old  irreparable  wrong  cried  out 
afresh,  and  God  knew  how  long  it  would  take  him  again 
to  silence  it.  He  and  his  father  had  lived  together  in 
love  and  amity,  till  their  evil  destiny  had  thrown  into 
their  way  the  painted  vixen,  who  entangled  the  old 
man's  senses  in  her  wiles,  and  then  ousted  the  son  from 
his  birthright  and  heritage.  The  old  man  had  been 
blameless,  Sergius  knew  that;  but  he  himself  had  also 
been  in  the  right,  when  he  refused  to  soil  his  fingers 
with  the  miserable  dole  that  his  father's  will  held 
out  to  him.  No,  he  had  left  the  whole  booty  to  the 


286  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

daylight  thief,  and  gone  forth,  in  the  coat  he  wore,  to 
escape  from  the  furtive  self-congratulations  and  the 
ironic  condolences  of  the  she-fox  and  her  whelp,  while 
he  still  had  the  strength  to  refrain  from  washing  his 
hands  in  their  blood.     And  so  he  had  drifted  from 
farm  to  farm,  from  stable  to  stable,  from  sewer  to 
sewer,  four  long  years  now,  always  downwards,  down 
wards,  downwards.     Oh,  the  pity  of  it!     What  would 
he  not  have  done,  how  many  homes  would  he  not  have 
brightened,  how  many  wounded  hearts  would  he  not 
have  healed  with  the  precious  gold  that  was  now  being 
swallowed  up  to  feed  a  human  doll's  merciless  vanity! 
Four  long  years!     He  was  getting  so  tired  of  it,  the 
drudgery,  the  hungering,  the  humiliation.     And  yet, 
for  the  last  week  or  two  the  world  had  not  appeared 
so  very  impossible;  and  to-day,  for  the  first  time  since 
he  could  remember,  he  felt  hope  bite  into  his  soul  with 
teeth  that  were  not  altogether  blunt  and  futile.   Surely, 
there  must  be  some  augury  in  this  out-of-the-way  meet 
ing  with  his  despoilers,  whom  he  had  never  expected 
to  hold  speech  with  again.     It  must  mean  some  momen 
tous  issue,  some  fateful  climax— perhaps  it  portended 
the  turning-point  in  his  life  that  would  at  last  bring 
him  to  the  threshold  of  whatever  happiness  Providence 
had  apportioned  him.     Ah,  how  he  was  wearying  for 
a  little  happiness — all  the  more  because  it  was  so  allur 
ingly  near  to  him,  with  scarcely  an  arm's  length  be 
tween  them.     Yes,  it  was  quite  true,  this  daughter  of 
the  despised  race  had  bound  him  in  fetters,  had  made 
him  her  vassal,  and  did  not  even  seem  conscious  of  her 
dominion.     Now  he  saw  why  the  men  of  this  race  re 
mained  so  patient  beneath  the  lash  of  their  oppressors. 
They  left  it  to  their  women  folk  to  avenge  them. 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  287 

He  looked  at  her.  Her  beauty  seemed  to  grow  over 
night;  the  radiance  that  had  been  hers  yesterday,  had 
to-day  deepened  into  a  veritable  halo.  She  had  brought 
with  her  a  letter,  the  contents  of  which  she  and  her 
father  were  discussing  in  that  strange  jargon  of  theirs; 
it  probably  contained  welcome  news,  for  they  were  talk 
ing  eagerly,  and  even  the  rugged  stolidness  of  Yossel's 
face  was  suffused  with  pleasure.  Milkah  was  just  going 
oft',  when  she  saw  Sergius  following  her  with  wistful 
gaze.  She  had  quite  forgotten  his  presence,  and  now 
she  turned  back  to  him  with  a  gesture  half  apologetic, 
and  asked  him  pleasantly  if  the  plaster  had  done  his 
hand  good.  He  thanked  her  with  shining  eyes,  and 
just  then  the  signal  sounded  to  resume  work.  He  could 
easily  count  the  words  she  had  addressed  to  him;  but, 
few  as  they  were,  they  were  enough  to  make  the  very 
stones  turn  into  songs  of  the  gladness  of  life. 

Milkah  walked  home  quickly,  clutching  in  her  hand 
the  letter  in  which  her  Baruch  announced  his  coming 
that  evening;  he  was  going  to  stay  with  them  over  the 
Sabbath.  And  now  she  had  to  hurry  to  make  suitable 
preparations  for  so  acceptable  a  guest.  She  was  to 
spare  no  expense — her  father  had  given  her  permission 
to  go  to  the  length  of  a  whole  rouble.  And  so,  ab 
sorbed  in  the  problem  of  spending  it  to  the  best  advan 
tage,  she  did  not  hear  the  stealthily  hurrying  footsteps 
behind  her,  and  stopped  with  a  little  cry  of  alarm  as 
a  shadow  fell  across  her  path,  and  a  strange  voice  spoke 
at  her  elbow: 

"  What  a  time  you  have  kept  me  waiting,  to  be  sure." 

She  looked  up,  and  her  alarm  did  not  diminish  when 

she  found  who  the  speaker  was.     Young  Feodor  leered 


288  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

down  upon  her  with  arch  complacence,  and  his 
laugh  twanged  with  a  hateful  pleasantry,  as  he  con 
tinued: 

"  A  whole  hour  nearly — I  never  waited  so  long  for 
a  woman  in  my  life.  You  ought  to  feel  highly  com 
plimented,  little  one." 

"All  the  more  reason  why  your  Honor  should  not 
waste  any  more  time  on  me/'  replied  Milkah,  airily. 
She  had  recovered  herself;  to  show  the  fear  she  felt 
would  be  to  increase  the  danger  tenfold.  And  young 
Feeder's  reputation  as  a  danger  to  people  of  her  sex 
and  age  did  not  rest  entirely  on  calumny.  She  would 
fight  him  with  his  own  weapons. 

He  took  stock  of  her  in  a  manner  of  impudent 
approval. 

"Fortunately  my  time  is  my  own,  so  I  can  waste  or 
save  it,"  he  said;  "  and  I  don't  think  I  am  wasting  it 
just  now.  Do  you  know  what,  little  one?  When  that 
old  reprobate,  King  Solomon,  wrote  that  song  about 
the  sweetheart  he  would  like,  he  must  have  meant  you. 
And  he  was  a  pretty  good  judge  from  all  accounts. 
Not  that  I  am  not.  Here,  let's  kiss  to  our  better 
acquaintance." 

Deftly  she  eluded  the  threatened  embrace.  "  I  am 
not  used  to  kissing  men  at  such  short  notice,"  she 
laughed. 

"And  I  can  hardly  ask  you  to  make  an  exception 
with  me,"  he  laughed  back,  professing  to  humor  her. 
Not  too  fast;  he  must  throw  his  hook  warily,  the  fish 
was  worth  careful  trailing.  Did  he  not  say  the  after 
noon  would  bring  its  own  counsel?  He  stooped  down 
to  her,  apparently  struck  by  a  sudden  idea. 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  289 

"  I  tell  you  what  we  shall  do,  little  girl.  At  four  I 
shall  wait  for  you  with  my  English  pony  trap  down 
at  the  other  end  of  the  village — I  know  you  wouldn't 
care  to  set  the  gossips'  tongues  wagging.  We  can  take 
a  spin  along  some  shady  by-ways  I  know  of,  and  I 
promise  you  will  be  back  again  before  the  dad  is  home. 
Now,  am  I  not  considerate  ?  " 

"More  than  I  deserve,  but  I  can't  come,  my  grand 
mother  is  ill;  she  may  die  any  minute,"  she  said,  mak 
ing  for  any  loop-hole  in  her  distress. 

"  Nonsense,"  he  sneered;  "  a  live  lover  is  better  than 
a  half -dead  grandmother  all  the  world  over.  You 
know  that  yourself." 

"Yes,  but  what  if  something  happens  while  I  am 
away?  "  she  asked.  "  My  father  would  beat  me  within 
an  inch  of  my  life." 

His  eyes  gleamed  cunningly.  "  If  it  comes  to  that," 
he  said  half  under  his  breath,  "  why  should  you  return 
at  all?  Listen,  little  one.  Heaven  never  meant  you 
to  burrow  through  life  in  this  mole's  fashion,  and  that's 
why  it  sent  me  across  your  track.  Follow  me,  and  I 
vow  you  will  never  regret  it.  Why,  the  great  Catherine 
herself  was  a  mere  village  girl  to  begin  with,  and  her 
beauty  was  nothing  to  yours." 

Milkah  laughed,  though  her  heart  trembled  with 
indignation  at  the  villainous  words.  "What,  your 
Honor  thinks  there  is  a  chance  of  my  becoming  an  em 
press  like  her?  In  that  case  a  year  or  two  is  scarcely  too 
much  in  which  to  give  the  matter  all  the  consideration 
due  to  it." 

Feodor  gnashed  his  teeth  as  he  put  on  his  blandest 
smile.  But  his  honeyed  phrases,  his  most  winning 


290  STEANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

blandishments  went  the  way  of  the  wind.  Milkah  had 
found  her  line  of  defence,  and  clung  to  it  desperately; 
and  her  peril  was  its  own  inspiration.  And  when  she 
finally  ran  off,,  waving  him  a  coquettish  good-bye,  he 
felt  he  had  been  fooled,  but  hardly  dared  resent  the 
fooling,  it  had  been  done  so  cleverly.  Besides  he  was 
fairly  certain  the  last  word  would  be  his. 

That  evening  Sergius  departed  from  his  usual  habits, 
and  did  an  underhand  thing:  he  turned  spy.  Yossel 
went  home  an  hour  earlier,  thereby  forfeiting  the  day's 
earnings;  that  and  the  letter  with  which  Milkah  had 
made  her  appearance  in  the  day  bred  in  Sergius  an 
unconquerable  presentiment.  He  could  not  see  what 
went  on  in  Yossel's  abode,  because  Yossel  lived  in  the 
second  story.  But  he  waited  outside,  in  the  shadow  of 
a  neighboring  shed,  gazing  up  at  the  lighted  window 
with  fascinated  eyes.  Several  times  there  fell  upon  it 
the  silhouette  of  a  figure  that  was  neither  Yossel's  nor 
Milkah's.  About  ten  o'clock  Milkah  came  out,  and 
not  alone.  She  and  the  man  passed  down  the  street, 
and  then  the  man  put  his  arm  round  her  waist  and 
kissed  her. 

Sergius  crept  after  them  all  the  way  and  back  again, 
till  they  re-entered  the  house.  Then  he  went  home 
to  his  own  hut,  nodding  his  head  vacuously  the  whole 
of  the  time,  as  though  he  were  signifying  his  unquali 
fied  assent  to  what  somebody  was  whispering  at  his  ear. 
But  he  answered  no  when  Yossel  asked  him  next  morn 
ing  whether  he,  too,  had  heard  the  unearthly  yell 
which  had  startled  all  Ushansk  out  of  its  slumbers  in 
the  night. 


THE  KOAD-MAKEKS  291 


IV 

A  week  later  found  Sergius  still  occupied  amidst  the 
stone  piles  along  the  road.  The  fact  did  not  surprise 
him,  because  he  was  scarcely  aware  of  it.  But  then 
he  was  not  aware  of  anything  else  either.  The  stones, 
upon  which  he  had  wrought  such  havoc,  had  avenged 
themselves  upon  him;  they  had  entered  into  his  soul, 
and  had  made  it  akin  to  them,  they,  had  petrified  his 
brain,  and  had  paralyzed  his  power  of  initiative.  He 
seemed  to  himself  a  clock  that  ticked  and  ticked,  but 
always  pointed  to  the  same  hour  and  minute,  and  never 
ran  out.  And  he  wanted  to  run  out  badly,  only  he 
did  not  know  how  to.  He  had  conceived  a  mortal 
horror  that  he  had  become  immortal.  In  the  morning 
he  came  to  his  work,  and  left  it  at  evening,  without  feel 
ing  his  life  had  moved  forward  an  inch.  During  the 
first  half  of  the  week  his  heart  had  vibrated  for  a  little 
while  each  day,  and  from  that  he  guessed  that  Milkah 
had  come — guessed,  for  he  did  not  look  round  to  make 
sure.  But  in  the  last  day  or  two  not  even  a  momen 
tary  throb  had  stirred  the  stagnating  monotony  of  his 
being,  and  from  that  he  inferred  that  Milkah  had  not 
come.  Perhaps  she  was  ill;  the  conjecture  received 
color  from  the  troubled  look  on  Yossel's  face  and  the 
thoughtful  taciturnity  that  took  the  place  of  his 
wonted  cheeriness.  Sergius  did  not  ask;  he  doubted 
whether  he  still  possessed  sufficient  command  of  lan 
guage  to  frame  the  question. 

But  the  next  morning  something  occurred  that 
compelled  Sergius  to  gather  in  some  of  his  fugitive 
faculties.  A  gendarme  stepped  up  to  him,  asked  if  he 


292  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

were  one  Sergius  Kouranowich,  and  slipped  a  note  into 
his  hand.  The  note  was  from  Feodor;  it  said: 

"  I  shall  wait  for  you  between  twelve  and  one  to-day 
near  the  Church  of  the  Three  Bishops.  Don't  fail  me. 
It  will  be  well  worth  your  while  to  come." 

Gleefully  almost  Sergius  gloated  over  the  words.  At 
last  heaven  had  had  pity  upon  him,,  and  would  make  a 
man  of  him  again.  Something  was  needed  to  give  him 
back  the  instinct  for  self-action,  to  rescue  him  from 
the  spell  which  had  atrophied  his  will-power,  and  had 
hamstrung  his  nerves.  And  now  this  message  from 
young  Feodor  had  come  to  set  everything  right.  Feodor 
had  sent  for  him  to  continue  his  contumelies,  to  exult 
over  the  unwary  foe  who  had  let  himself  be  trapped  by 
ambush.  But  one  sneering  word,  one  supercilious 
look,  and  he  would  not  have  time  for  a  second.  Ser 
gius  swore  it,  and  looking  at  his  sinewy  hands,  he  knew 
it  would  not  be  his  fault,  if  he  perjured  himself.  After 
all,  this  was  the  last  occasion  whereon  he  would  have 
to  act  on  his  own  discretion.  Once  he  had  finished 
with  young  Feodor,  other  people  would  be  good  enough 
to  map  out  his  programme  for  all  time  to  come. 

So  he  reassured  himself  as  he  made  his  way  to  the 
place  of  meeting.  Feodor  was  already  there,  walking 
up  and  down  with  short,  staccato  steps,  which  betrayed 
his  impatience.  He  turned  to  Sergius  with  a  wheed 
ling  air,  and  Sergius'  heart  sank,  for  that  told  him  he 
had  been  baulked  in  his  expectations. 

"  I  am  glad  you  came,"  fawned  Feodor;  "  I  have  a 
little  business  in  hand,  and  want  your  help." 

Sergius  gazed  at  him  stolidly. 

"  It  will  be  a  hundred  roubles  in  your  pocket,"  con 
tinued  Feodor,,  tentatively. 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  293 

"  And  it  won't  be  for  chasing  the  flies  off  you/'  said 
Sergius,  grimly. 

Feodor  laughed  coaxingly.  It  was  just  as  well  to 
encourage  Sergius  in  his  good  humor. 

"  It  isn't  quite  so  easy  as  that/'  he  replied.  "  You 
will  have  to  work  for  the  money.  I  know  your  ideas 
about  being  beholden  to  no  man  .  .  .  ." 

"  Out  with  your  devil's  job/'  rasped  Sergius. 

Feodor  shrugged  his  shoulders,  to  conceal  his  con 
fusion  and  alarm. 

"  You  know  the  Jew-girl  that  comes  to  the  works  in 
the  dinner  hour." 

Sergius  became  rigid.  The  other  took  his  silence 
for  assent. 

"  She  is  a  sorceress,  Sergius,  and  she  has  bewitched 
me.  Since  I  set  eyes  on  her,  I  don't  know  what  rest 
means  by  day  or  by  night.  She  drags  me  behind  her, 
now  with  a  short  rope,  and  now  with  a  long.  More 
than  a  week  has  the  cat-and-mouse  game  gone  on,  and 
it  hurts  frightfully  to  be  the  mouse.  I  must  make  an 
end  of  it,  Sergius,  or  I  shall  die.  Yes,  Sergius,  the 
Jew-girl  must  come  to  me,  or  I  shall  die.  She  will 
never  come  willingly,  and  so  I  must  steal  her.  Will 
you  help  me?" 

Sergius  listened  with  pricked-up  ears,  laughing  in 
wardly  all  the  time.  Why  should  he  not  feel  glad? 
Here  was  a  man  taking  upon  himself,  unsolicited,  the 
trouble  of  avenging  him.  At  last  he  had  captured  the 
thought  for  which  he  had  been  groping  through  all 
the  darkness  and  starkness  of  his  poor  numbed  brain. 
Vengeance  on  the  Jew-girl — that  was  what  he  wanted 
to  wake  him  from  his  unnatural,  narcotic  stupor,  and 


294  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

give  him  back  his  place  in  a  world  of  sentient  things. 
She  had  had  her  wicked  way  with  him  long  enough. 
He  would  spare  her  as  little  as  she  had  spared  him. 
Why  had  she  deliberately  lied  when  he  asked  her  the 
meaning  of  the  ring  she  wore?  Had  she  told  him  the 
truth  then,,  there  would  still  have  been  time  to  extri 
cate  himself  from  the  mad  folly,  which  presently  took 
him  in  its  deadly,  octopus-like  grip,  and  in  the  end 
crushed  all  the  life  out  of  him.  No,  she  had  pre 
ferred  to  dally  with  him,  to  dangle  him  on  the  long 
rope  and  the  short  rope,  and  now  her  ruin  was  upon 
her  own  head. 

"  Yes,  I  shall  help  you,"  he  gave  his  decision. 

Feeder's  face  brightened.  "  I  was  afraid  you  would 
refuse — you  considered  so  long,"  he  explained.  "You 
see,  friend  Sergius,  I  shall  be  candid  with  you;  there 
is  a  special  reason  why  I  want  you.  You  are  to  be  the 
decoy.  This  afternoon  the  old  Jew,  her  father,  will 
be  called  away  on  a  fool's  errand,  and  kept  in  good 
hands  till  all  is  over.  You  will  go  to  her,  tell  her  the 
old  man  has  broken  his  leg,  or  anything  else  you  like, 
and  has  sent  for  her.  She  will  not  suspect  you,  for  as 
far  as  I  gathered  from  her  lips  you  and  her  father  have 
struck  up  something  of  a  friendship.  Where  the  pri 
vate  forest  path  begins,  there  will  be  a  cart  and  horse 
to  take  her  to  the  district  hospital,  where,  as  you  will 
tell  her,  her  father  has  been  carried  by  ambulance;  a 
mile  beyond  I  shall  join  you,  and  three  miles  further 
on  there  is  the  pretty  little  shooting-box  I  built  myself 
last  year.  A  simple  but  effective  plan,  eh,  Sergius? 
I  doubt  whether  Gortchakoff  could  have  improved  upon 
it." 


THE  BOAD-MAKEKS  295 

"Or  the  Evil  One  himself/'  muttered  Sergius,  as, 
despite  his  resolve,  his  fists  clenched  while  the  glib 
villainy  unfolded  itself.  He  looked  at  the  young 
schemer,  and  did  not  know  whether  he  loved  more 
dearly  his  revenge,  or  hated  more  mortally  his  avenger. 
But  one  thing  he  could  not  doubt,  and  that  was  that 
he  had  been  drained  dry  of  all  shame,  or  else  he  would 
not  have  humiliated  himself  on  any  human  pretext, 
into  abetting  this  drone  that  stung,  this  butterfly  that 
cankered  and  poisoned.  It  could  bear  no  pain  itself, 
it  writhed  and  whined  at  any  touch  that  was  not  a 
caress,  but  it  gave  no  thought  to  the  deadly  working 
of  its  own  venom,  it  took  no  count  where  its  slaver 
might  fall  and  fester.  Well,  let  him  wreak  his  worst 
on  her;  let  him  taint  and  corrupt  and  putrefy  her,  till 
she  shuddered  at  her  own  self.  That  would  serve  a 
double  purpose:  it  would  slay  her  soul,  and  would 
house  the  slayer  a  thousand  fathoms  deeper,  a  thou 
sand  years  longer,  amid  the  torments  of  Tophet. 

Feodor  had  been  talking  on  smoothly,  impressing 
upon  Sergius  the  minor  details  of  the  plot,  which  the 
latter  caught  with  half  an  ear.  And  suddenly  he  felt 
as  though  his  better  self  were  spitting  him  in  the  face 
for  all  this  despicable  trickery,  and  he  turned  sharply 
to  go,  knowing  that  if  he  stayed  a  moment  longer  his 
hands  would  be  about  Feeder's  throat,  and  with  Feodor 
he  would  strangle  his  one  chance  of  regaining  his 
manhood.  The  Jew-girl  would  triumph,  and  he  would 
fall  back  into  that  dull,  impotent  clockwork  stupor  of 
his.  without  even  the  power  to  comfort  himself  with 
his  own  curses. 


296  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Feodor  hurried  after  and  overtook  him.  "  Then  I 
may  rely  on  you?  "  he  asked  anxiously. 

Sergius  nodded. 

"Here  is  your  fee  in  advance,  just  to  show  that  I 
trust  .you/'  said  Feodor,  with  an  awkward  little  laugh. 

Roughly  Sergius  pushed  aside  the  other's  hand. 

"  Treble  it,  and  give  it  to  some  honest  priest  to  pray 
for  us  —we  shall  want  as  much  praying  for  as  we  can 
get,"  he  called  back  across  his  shoulder,  as  he  hurried 
on.  This  was  not  how  he  wished  to  realize  his  revenge. 
He  was  wiser  than  to  stultify  it  by  cramping  it  into  his 
pocket.  It  was  a  great  and  precious  thing  that  could 
well  afford  to  be  its  own  recompense. 

The  afternoon  dragged  on  leaden-footed.  Never 
before  had  Sergius  been  possessed  so  strongly  by  his 
sense  of  immobility,  of  marking  time  without  hearing 
his  footfalls,  without  seeing  his  footprints.  Great  God, 
would  nothing  happen  to  tear  a  rent  in  this  stifling, 
brooding  eternity?  Ah,  yes,  at  last!  A  man  came 
and  brought  Yossel  a  message,  probably  a  fabrication 
of  something  that  concerned  his  daughter,  for  in  a 
moment  he  was  doubling  off  as  fast  as  his  half-numbed 
legs  could  carry  him,  in  the  direction  of  his  home. 
And  on  the  road,  at  some  convenient  spot,  he  would  be 
waylaid  and  secured — till  all  was  over.  Sergius 
thanked  Feodor  for  the  phrase;  it  covered  everything, 
and  saved  the  necessity  for  ugly  specification.  Had  it 
not  rung  so  persistently  in  his  ears,  he  would  for  a 
certainty  have  followed  and  stayed  this  poor  old  fool 
now  running  so  desperately  to  put  his  head  into  the 
noose.  No,  let  him  run,  let  him  choke,  anything  to 
rub  from  off  his  face  the  smug,  smooth  contentment, 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  297 

in  which  Sergius  had  begun  to  see  a  maddening,  ironic 
contrast  to  the  wild  upheaval,  the  agonizing  turbulence 
of  his  own  heart. 

So  the  plot  was  working.  And  as  the  time  for  him 
to  play  his  part  in  it  came  near,  the  spirit  of  the  adven 
ture  seized  him.  He  rioted  in  its  novelty.  He  had 
never  acted  the  trickster,  and  he  was  curious  how  he 
would  acquit  himself  as  such.  He  did  not  make  a 
brilliant  beginning.  Half  way  to  Ushansk  he  met 
Milkah. 

"  Your  father  has  met  with  an  accident,"  he  strug 
gled  to  say,  but  the  lie  stuck  in  his  throat. 

"What  brings  you  here  so  late?"  he  asked  instead. 

"  I  came  hoping  to  meet  you,"  she  replied,  her  voice 
very  unsteady. 

"  To  meet  me  ?  "  he  echoed,  shooting  a  swift  glance 
at  her  in  the  waning  twilight.  He  saw  there  were 
shadows  under  her  eyes,  a  wan  and  suppliant  look  on 
her  face,  making  him  wonder  how  he  could  ever  have 
considered  as  a  grown  up  woman  this  child,  a  child 
seemingly  in  great  pain,  and  yet  too  frightened  to  cry 
out. 

"  To  meet  me?  "  he  said  again,  as  he  saw  her  hesitate. 

"Yes,  you,  I  could  think  of  nobody  else,"  she  re 
plied,  speaking  fast  as  though  to  make  up  for  lost 
time;  "you  have  made  it  manifest,  more  than  once, 
that  you  wished  me  to  look  on  you  as  a  friend,  and 
yours  is  not  the  air  of  a  man  who  is  easily  moved  to 
idle  pretence.  Sergius,  help  me  to  lift  the  trouble 
which  has  fallen  over  my  young  life." 

He  was  glad  of  the  gathering  darkness,  for  he  would 
have  found  it  hard  to  explain  the  surprise,  amuse- 


298  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

ment,  anger,  which  he  felt  chasing  each  other  across 
his  features.  This  was  taking  the  bull  by  the  horns 
with  a  vengeance.  But  the  piteous,  impassioned  words, 
in  which  she  set  forth  the  story  of  Feodor's  importu 
nity  Left  him  cold;  it  was  as  much  as  he  could  do  not 
to  cut  her  short  impatiently. 

"  He  will  kill  me,  he  will  kill  himself,  he  will  kill 
everybody,  he  says,"  she  continued,  keeping  back  her 
sobs.  "  For  the  last  three  days  I  have  been  a  prisoner 
in  the  house;  I  dare  not  show  myself  outside,  because 
he  tracks  me  like  a  sleuth-hound.  Even  now  he  is 
probably  on  my  heels." 

"But  what  can  I  do  on  your  behalf?"  asked  Ser- 
gius,  with  something  like  a  crocodile  tear  in  his  voice. 
For  a  novice  in  chicanery  he  was  doing  uncommonly 
well.  But  somehow  he  did  not  love  himself  any  the 
better  for  it. 

"You  can  do  the  only  thing  possible,"  she  said 
eagerly.  "  Speak  to  him  for  me;  you  seem  to  know 
each  other  well;  father  told  me  that  last  week  you  con 
versed  together  for  a  long  time  and  in  the  manner  of 
men  of  equal  station.  Perhaps  you  could  prevail  upon 
him  to  leave  me  in  peace.  He  is  angry  with  me,  be 
cause  he  has  learnt  to  love  me;  but  did  I  do  anything 
to  teach  him?  I  did  not  send  for  him;  he  met  me  as 
he  might  meet  a  thousand  other  strangers.  And  he, 
ought  not  to  have  been  so  improvident  as  to  let  his 
heart  go  from  him,  before  he  had  a  fair  hope  of  getting 
mine  in  return;  but  let  him  search  in  all  the  crevices 
of  his  memory  whether  by  word  or  sign  I  ever  gave 
him  warrant  for  such  a  hope.  He  told  me  he  would 
either  have  my  love  or  my  life,  nothing  else  would 


THE  EOAD-MAKERS  299 

content  him.  My  love  he  cannot  have,  because  that 
already  belongs,  and  always  will  belong,  to  some  one 
else.  Well,  then,  let  him  take  my  life.  But,  Sergius, 
I  would  keep  my  life  also,  if  I  only  can;  I  am  still  so 
young,  and  I  have  a  great  deal  of  happiness  waiting 
for  me.  So  save  me,  Sergius;  I  have  no  one  else  to 
look  to." 

Sergius  listened,  and  forgot  that  he  was  only  to  be 
the  messenger  of  her  words,  not  the  recipient.  So  he 
let  them  sink  deep  down  into  his  heart,  for  they  applied 
more  truthfully  to  him  than  to  that  other  one.  But 
what  he  heard  of  them  was  not  so  much  their  pitiful- 
ness,  as  their  irrefutable  justice.  In  the  name,  then, 
of  heaven's  eternal  righteousness,  he  would  be  just  to 
her.  And  to  himself,  too.  He  would  misconstrue  him 
self  no  longer.  What  he  had  mistaken  for  insensate 
hatred  was  merely  his  love  racked  beyond  the  straining- 
point.  But  it  was  love  nevertheless,  and  he  would 
prove  it  to  himself,  and  to  anybody  who  doubted  it,  by 
saving  her,  by  preserving  her  for  the  happiness  to  which 
she  was  looking  with  such  childlike  wistfulness. 

"I  was  thinking  what  is  to  be  done,"  he  palliated 
his  long  silence.  "  Suppose  you  went  away  from  here 
and  ...  » 

"  He  warned  me  against  that/'  she  interrupted 
quickly;  "  he  would  only  have  to  look  down  the  index 
of  the  passport  register  in  his  step-father's  office  to 
know  where  we  had  attempted  to  hide  ourselves.  And 
then  he  would  hound  me  down." 

"  Well,  then,  I  must  try  my  own  way,"  said  Sergius, 
half  to  himself. 

Milkah,  however,  had  caught  the  words,  and  with  a 


300  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

glad  cry  of  gratitude,  she  snatched  his  hands  in  hers, 
and  was  about  to  raise  them  to  her  lips;  but  he  fore 
stalled  her.  In  a  moment  he  was  down  on  his  knees 
before  her,  and,  muttering  inarticulately,  pressing  his 
mouth  to  her  hands,  till  Milkah  thought  he  meant  to 
burn  a  hole  in  them  right  through  to  the  palms.  Then 
he  leapt  to  his  feet,  moved  off  a  pace  or  two,  and  then, 
coming  back  close  to  her,  said  solemnly: 

"Yes,  I  shall  save  you,  and,  by  token  of  it,  you 
will  never  see  me  again.  But  you  must  be  grateful  to 
me,  and  that,  by  being  as  happy  as  you  can.  The  hap 
pier  you  are,  the  more  you  will  justify  me,  the  stronger 
you  will  make  my  claims  to  redemption.  And  may 
God  give  you  understanding." 

With  that  he  disappeared,  vanishing  into  the  dark 
ness  noiseless  as  a  wraith.  Milkah  remained  rooted  to 
the  spot,  her  breath  flying,  her  chest  heaving,  ponder 
ing,  puzzling  over  the  strange  words  with  which  he 
had  made  his  farewell.  It  troubled  her  that  they 
should  convey  nothing  to  her  when  evidently  they 
meant  such  a  great  deal  to  him.  But  though  he  said 
she  would  never  see  him  again,  perhaps  she  would  hear 
from  him,  and  then  she  would  ask.  Half  comforted 
she  was  just  turning  homeward,  when,  across  the  gloom- 
shrouded  distance,  came  the  same  eerie,  inhuman  shout 
that  had  made  her  blood  run  cold  with  terror  some 
nights  ago.  So  it  was  he  who  chose  to  amuse  himself 
in  this  fashion.  And  instead  of  being  startled,  as  she 
had  been  before,  she  laughed  to  herself  in  the  fulness 
of  her  reassurance.  A  man  who  could  shout  like 
that,  and  withal  grovelled  at  your  feet  and  kissed  your 
hands,  it  was  good  and  desirable  to  have  such  a  man 
for  your  champion. 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  301 


The  world  never  learnt  the  ins  and  outs  of  the 
circumstances  attending  the  atrocity  whereby  the  Pre 
fect's  promising  young  step-son  met  with  his  terrible 
death  that  same  night.  That  it  was  a  case  of  deliberate 
murder  there  could  not  be  the  slightest  doubt.  He 
was  found  the  next  morning  at  the  bottom  of  the  pro 
montory  where  the  quarry-side  overhung  most  steeply 
the  valley  beneath.  His  hands  and  feet  had  been 
pinioned.  He  lay  amid  the  debris  of  a  horse  and  cart 
from  the  Prefect's  stable  and  the  remains  of  a  man  of 
gigantic  stature,  to  whom  evidenly  the  foul  deed  had 
to  be  ascribed.  This  man  had  worked  as  one  of  the  road 
navvies,  hut  beyond  that  nothing  was  known  about  him., 
except  that  he  was  possessed  of  remarkable  strength. 
Mylady's  nerves  did  not  permit  her  to  attend  the 
inquiry,,  and  so  the  most  obvious  motive  for  the  crime, 
the  motive  of  revenge,  was  not  suggested.  But  al 
though  the  inward  truth  of  the  matter  was  left  open 
to  conjecture,,  the  more  immediate  details  connected 
with  the  perpetration  of  the  deed  could  be  fairly  pieced 
together.  It  appeared  from  the  account  of  one  of  the 
stablemen  in  the  Prefect's  employ,  that  he  had  been 
ordered  by  the  young  master  to  be  in  readiness  with  the 
cart  and  horse  in  question  at  the  entrance  to  the 
private  forest  path,  where  he  was  to  wait  for  two 
passengers,  one  a  man,  the  other  a  young  woman.  The 
man  alone  had  appeared,  frothing  at  the  mouth  and  a 
maniac  look  in  his  eyes.  Before  the  stableman  could 
remonstrate,  the  frothing  man  had  leapt  to  the  box- 
seat,  seized  the  reins,  and  was  whipping  the  horse  into 


302  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

a  furious  gallop.  The  groom  then  had  hurried  home 
to  lay  information  against  one  whom  at  the  time  he 
did  not  consider  anything  more  than  an  impudent 
thief.  After  that  the  tale  was  taken  up  by  a  charcoal 
burner,  roused  about  midnight  by  a  tremendous  clatter 
of  wheels,  above  which  cries  for  help  could  be  plainly 
distinguished.  The  wan  rays  of  the  new  moon  showed 
a  figure  in  the  body  of  the  cart  struggling  to  free  itself 
from  the  cords  in  which  it  was  bound,  with  the  driver 
laughing  horribly  at  its  ineffectual  efforts.  But  be 
fore  one  could  make  sure  that  it  was  nothing  more  than 
a  nightmare,  the  whole  thing  had  dashed  out  of  sight. 
The  final  link,  and  the  most  important,  because  it  com 
plicated  the  mystery,  was  furnished  by  a  decrepit,  half 
paralyzed  old  loafer,  who  had  made  his  home  in  one 
of  the  caves  of  the  hillside,  and  lived  from  the  frag 
ments  of  food  and  a  chance  copeck  flung  him  by  the 
quarrymen.  He  had  crawled  out  of  his  cave,  just  as 
the  miscreant  had  jumped  down  to  clap  the  blinkers 
tightly  to  the  eyes  of  the  rearing  horse,  while  shouting 
at  the  top  of  his  voice:  "  You  said  you  must  have  her 
or  die;  and  as  you  cannot  have  her,  you  must,  as  a 
man  of  honor,  do  the  other  thing."  Something  else 
he  said  also,  as  he  backed  the  cart  for  the  deadly  leap — 
something  about  falling  soft,  for  the  devil  was  down 
below  by  appointment  waiting  to  catch  them  with 
open  arms.  But  about  this  last  the  witness  was  not 
certain.  The  statement  of  several  of  the  quarrymen, 
who  remembered  the  murderer  standing  some  days  ago 
on  the  uttermost  spur  of  the  rock,  looking  into  the 
depth  as  though  he  were  reconnoitering,  was  not  con 
sidered  of  any  importance.  The  one  person  to  whose 


THE  ROAD-MAKERS  303 

advantage  the  thing  chiefly  redounded  was  Maryashka, 
the  fortune-teller.  The  accurate  consummation  of  her 
happy  guess,  predicting  a  violent  end  to  young  Feodor 
and  the  simultaneous  death  of  his  murderer,  brought 
her  an  overwhelming  custom,  and  all  the  other  magi 
cians  and  necromancers  for  a  hundred  miles  round  went 
bankrupt. 

For  seven  days  and  nights  Milkah  tossed  on  her 
couch,  crying  to  God  what  had  been  her  offence  that 
the  fates  of  two  strange  lives  should  be  thus  burdened 
upon  her  soul.  Then,  when  the  fever  had  burnt  itself 
out  of  her  bones,  and  her  reason  came  back  to  her,  she 
realized  the  meaning  of  her  rescuer's  dying  request. 
God  had  fulfilled  his  prayer,  and  had  given  her  the  "ne 
cessary  understanding.  He  wanted  her  to  be  happy,  be 
cause  he  had  died — and  had  killed — to  make  her  so.  If 
she  allowed  the  bitterness  of  it  to  rest  on  her  mind, 
and  ate  her  heart  out  of  herself  with  its  misery,  his 
sacrifice  and  his  sin  would  be  rendered  void  and  profit 
less.  Her  happiness  would  be  the  achievement  to 
which  he  would  be  able  to  point  on  Judgment  Day  as 
the  redeeming  merit  of  his  life;  in  that  lay  his  only 
atonement.  And  she  swore  that,  as  far  as  it  rested 
with  her,  she  would  help  him  to  that  atonement.  In 
that  vow  her  husband  Baruch  assisted  her  loyally. 
And  their  only  child,  Sergius,  had  no  need  to  be  told 
the  story  of  his  namesake  to  know  how  much  the  ulti 
mate  keeping  of  the  vow  depended  on  him. 

Among  the  first  to  use  the  new  road  when  com 
pleted  was  Mylady,  the  Prefect's  wife.  She  travelled 
upon  it  in  eloping  with  her  Colonel  of  Cossacks. 
When,  however,  the  Colonel  discovered  that  the  hair 


304  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

and  teeth  about  which,  he  had  been  so  dithyrambic, 
had  belonged  to  somebody  else  before  her,  he  sent  her 
back  to  the  Prefect  with  a  polite  note,  explaining  that 
the  whole  thing  had  been  a  mistake.  The  Prefect 
took  the  explanation  and  his  wife  in  the  same  spirit  of 
pleasantry  in  which  they  had  been  sent.  But  her 
escapade  had  cost  My  lady  her  name,  and  though  she 
now  had  a  beautifully  short  cut  to  the  Governor's 
palace,  she  did  not  get  there  even  by  the  longest;  for, 
having  become  socially  impossible,  she  had  ceased  to 
figure  on  the  list  of  invitations. 


THE  BROKEN  PANE 

THE  judge  sat  in  his  study.  The  day's  work  had  been 
unusually  heavy;  sundry  poachers,  smugglers,  horse- 
thieves,  a  political  offender  or  two,  had  come  up  be 
fore  his  tribunal,  and  he  had  done  his  duty  consci 
entiously.  That  was  why  he  now  felt  so  comfortable 
as  he  lounged  in  his  grandfather-chair,  wrapped  in  his 
soft,  voluminous  dressing-gown,  warming  his  feet  at 
the  bright  blaze  in  the  grate.  It  was  only  mid- 
autumn,  but  he  was  growing  old,  and  his  blood  ran 
sluggishly,  as  if  it  were  getting  tired  of  the  routine. 

On  the  table  stood  the  tall  reading  lamp,  burning 
quietly  under  its  green  shade.  But  suddenly  the 
straight,  steady  flare  broke  into  a  momentary  flicker, 
and  the  heavy  damask  curtains  at  the  window  swayed 
lightly,  as  if  unseen  fingers  were  playing  with  them. 
Then  the  lamp  sputtered  more  violently,  and  the 
drapery  moved  with  gently  widening  curves.  The 
judge  looked  up ;  what  did  this  mean  ?  He  felt  a  dis 
tinct  gust  of  wind  blowing  into  the  room  in  a  volume 
of  chill  night  air.  Ah,  he  knew — a  pane  in  the 
window  had  got  broken,  his  little  son  Eudolph  had 
driven  the  bolt  of  his  cross-bow  through  it  that  morn 
ing.  A  smile  relaxed  the  set  lips  of  the  judge  as  he 
thought  of  the  little  fellow's  tears  at  the  mischief  he 
had  done — how  the  boy  would  not  be  soothed  till  his 
father,  on  his  way  out  to  the  court-house,  had  lifted 
him  up  and  kissed  him,  and,  for  stronger  evidence  of 


306  STRANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

forgiveness,  had  presented  him  with  a  shining  silver 
rouble.  He  had  ordered  old  Sebastian  to  see  that  the 
window  was  mended  during  the  day,  and  the  stupid 
rascal  had  evidently  forgotten.  With  an  angry  frown, 
the  judge  reached  for  the  bell-rope;  but  just  as  it  was 
about  to  give  tongue,  his  arm  stiffened  and  stopped 
motionless — something  seemed  to  hold  it  back — a  sud 
den  thought — a  memory.  His  fist  clenched  as  if  he 
had  caught  something,  and  would  not  let  it  go.  The 
pale,  silent-eyed  ghost  of  the  past  had  brushed  by  him, 
and  now  he  was  clutching  it  by  the  skirts 

Had  it  not  all  begun  with  a  broken  pane,  and  at 
this  season  of  the  year?  That  was  why  the  old  Jew 
ish  vagrant  had  pleaded  so  earnestly  that  day  to  be  let 
off,  so  that  he  might  not  be  deprived  of  his  supplica 
tions  for  an  auspicious  year,  with  plenty  of  undetected 
pilferings.  The  judge  laughed  to  himself — a  broken 
pane !  How  ignoble  it  sounded.  Had  he  had  his  will, 
he  would  have  chosen  something  more  heroic  for  the 
pivot  of  his  life.  Providence  stooping  to  the  disguise 
of  a  broken  pane  of  glass !  No  wonder  people  had  so 
little  respect  for  Providence. 

He  was  a  little  boy  again — ten,  eleven  years  old 
It  was  the  eve  of  the  New  Year — his  father  and 
brothers,  looking  spruce  and  clean,  were  coming  from 
the  house  on  their  way  to  the  Evening  Service. 

"  Come  to  prayers,  you  godless  little  imp/'  he  re 
membered  his  father  saying,  "  unless  you  would  begin 
the  New  Year  with  broken  bones." 

"  I  shall  be  there  as  soon  as  you,"  the  little  boy  had 
answered,  pretending  to  be  very  busy  collecting  a 
basket  of  peat  for  the  kitchen.  And  then,  having 


THE  BROKEN  PANE  307 

watched  his  father  out  of  sight,  he  went  back  to  his 
real  business,  which,  out  of  deference  to  his  father's 
feelings,  he  had  momentarily  intermitted.  It  cannot 
be  maintained  that  the  business  in  question  was  more 
important  than  going  to  synagogue,  but  for  Jacob, 
that  is  the  little  boy,  it  had  much  more  fascination. 
He  was  stoning  the  weathercock. 

The  said  weathercock  had  its  perch  on  the  gable  of 
the  house  wherein  Jacob  and  his  folk  lived.  Jacob 
hated  it,  from  pure  jealousy — it  looked  so  irritat- 
ingly  irresponsible,  it  could  turn  this  way  and  that 
without  protest  from  any  one,  its  life  was  not  pent 
up  between  morning  and  evening  prayers,  nor  squeezed 
flat  between  the  pages  of  Eashi's  Commentaries.  And, 
therefore,  to  infuse  a  little  sorrow  into  its  existence, 
Jacob  threw  stones  at  it  on  every  occasion.  Nine  times 
out  of  ten  he  missed  it,  and  the  weathercock  swung 
round  and  round  creaking,  and  Jacob  thought  it  said: 
"  You  silly  little  Jew  boy  " ;  and  the  tenth  time,  when 
it  was  hit,  its  brass  pennon  swung  on  just  the  same, 
with  a  lordly  unconcern,  which  annoyed  Jacob  more 
than  to  be  called  a  silly  Jew  boy. 

This  afternoon  he  had  been  more  than  usually  un 
successful — the  weathercock  seemed  invulnerable.  But 
Jacob  was  determined  not  to  be  beaten,  and  that  was 
why  he  sought  a  pretence  for  not  following  his  father 
immediately.  At  last  he  grew  desperate;  from  the 
synagogue  at  the  back  rose  the  Declaration  of  the 
Unity,  it  was  getting  very  dark,  too — just  one  more 
missile,  and  he  would  have  done.  Carefully  he  poised 
his  throw,  took  steady  aim,  let  loose  and  crash — ! 
Jacob  felt  a  shiver  wriggle  down  his  back;  what  had 


308  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

happened?  Yes,  there  was  no  doubt  of  it,  he  had 
broken  a  window,  the  solitary  window  of  the  dingy 
sitting-room  where  the  family  took  their  meals  on 
great  occasions. 

A  nameless  horror  took  hold  of  the  boy.  He  dared 
not  face  his  father  after  this — his  stern,  loveless  father, 
who  had  always  made  him  a  scapegoat,  who  would 
lift  him  up  by  the  ears,  and  throw  him  on  the  ground, 
and  strike  him  with  his  cobbler's  strap — first,  for  not 
coming  to  synagogue,  secondly,  for  committing  break 
age  on  a  holiday,  which  was  a  greater  sin,  thirdly,  for 
causing  an  unnecessary  expense  of  twenty  copecks, 
which  was  the  greatest.  And  as  the  catalogue  of  his 
indictments  rose  before  the  boy's  eyes,  he  started  away 
with  a  shriek,  and  ran  as  if  an  army  of  fiends  with 
cobblers'  straps  in  their  hands  were  pursuing  him. 

The  squalid  Jew-quarter  lay  by  now  far  behind,  and 
he  was  still  running,  his  head  dazed  and  bewildered 
by  the  labyrinthine  streets  of  the  great  city,  his  chest 
heaving,  his  eyes  staring  wildly.  Whither  was  he 
running?  He  knew  not — he  cared  not — only  away 
from  the  hard,  pitiless  face  of  his  father  and  the  whiz 
zing  sting  of  his  leather  thong.  Suddenly  he  felt  some 
thing  touch  him  on  the  shoulder,  and  he  flung  himself 
to  earth  with  a  howl  of  terror. 

"  Spare  me,  father,  spare  me — only  this  once,"  he 
shrieked. 

"  Get  up,  I  mean  you  no  harm,"  said  a  strange  voice, 
and  a  hand  stroked  his  head  almost  caressingly.  And 
when  he  looked  up,  he  saw  before  him  a  man  in  a  long 
cassock,  who  was  gazing  at  him  compassionately. 

"You  are  frightened — you  are  fleeing  some  danger 


THE  BROKEN  PANE  309 

— tell  me  all;  you  are  safe  with  me/7  he  said 
again. 

In  eager  haste  and  with  many  a  backward  glance  of 
dread,  Jacob  told  him  what  had  happened,  his  tongue 
lapsing  now  and  again  into  his  Ghetto  gibberish.  "  If 
I  go  back  now/7  he  sobbed,  "I  shall  be  half  flayed, 
and  thrust  into  the  cellar  over  night — oh !  "  A  green 
ish  look  crept  over  his  little  sallow  face,  and  he  reeled 
and  tottered  like  a  drunken  man. 

"  Starving,  as  I  live/7  muttered  the  cassock-man, 
looking  at  him  closely;  and  with  that  he  stooped  and 
lifted  the  boy  in  his  arms — the  burden  was  pitifully 
light.  Then  he  strode  on,  and  by  the  time  he  was 
entering  a  doorway  Jacob  had  so  far  recovered  as  to 
raise  his  head. 

"  What  is  that  ? 77  he  asked,  pointing  to  a  gilded 
wooden  figure  on  a  cross  that  hung  at  the  side  of  the 
entrance. 

"  That  ?  That  is  my  doorpost  amulet/7  answered 
the  cassock-man,  hastily,  "like  the  one  you  have  at 
home.77 

"But  it  is  not  like  ours/7  insisted  Jacob;  "yours 
is  wood,  and  ours  is  a  tin  capsule  with  an  opening 
through  which  the  eye  of  God  peeps  into  the  house — 
so  I  have  heard  our  Eabbi  say;  but  perhaps  yours  is  a 
newer  make.77 

"  A  newer  make,  indeed/7  said  the  other,  slowly,  "  but 
one  that  shall  endure  when  your  tin  capsule  is  eaten 
by  rust.77 

"  The  Rabbi  says  there  is  a  soul  in  each  capsule,  and 
when  the  tin  gets  rust-eaten,  the  soul  goes  into  a  new 
capsule,  and  so  on  as  long  as  the  world  shall  last." 


310  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Jacob  shrank  back,  because  the  eyes  of  the  man, 
which  had  till  now  looked  so  mild  and  loving,  seemed 
to  blaze  with  a  terrible  fire;  but  only  for  an  instant. 

"You  know  not  what  you  are  saying/'  said  the 
man  in  his  soft  voice,  when  they  had  entered.  "  Come 
and  eat,  your  body  needs  tending  first."  Quickly  he 
set  before  Jacob  all  manner  of  eatables,  and  Jacob 
did  not  stop  to  inquire  into  their  nature.  He  thought 
he  was  in  Eden  Garden,  and  was  feasting  on  the 
leviathan,  which  is  the  regular  bill  of  fare  in  the  place. 
He  had  faste'd  all  day,  because  his  mother  thought  it 
fitting  one  should  grow  a  greater  appetite  for  the 
greater  glory  of  the  festival.  The  man  sat  watching 
him  in  silence,  and  by  and  by,  when  Jacob  had  ceased 
to  eat,  and  his  eyes  grew  heavy  with  the  weight  of  sleep, 
he  took  him  by  the  hand  to  lead  him  from  the  chamber, 
and  Jacob's  heart  sank  as  he  thought  he  would  now 
have  to  go  forth  into  the  cold  night,  and  sleep  on  the 
stones,  with  evil  spirits  and  other  horrors  to  keep  him 
company.  But  no,  the  man  took  him  to  a  little  room, 
wherein  stood  a  bed,  all  white-sheeted  and  raised  from 
the  floor  on  four  legs,  and  Jacob  had  just  time  to 
think  it  was  probably  too  high  to  be  reached  by  the 
cockroaches  that  used  to  come  swarming  over  his 
straw  pallet  near  the  kitchen  hearth,  before  he  was 
fast  asleep.  But  long  afterwards  he  wondered  at  the 
strange  dream  that  had  come  to  him  that  night:  he 
had  wandered  into  the  midst  of  a  large  plain,  at  one 
end  of  which  stood  his  father  with  a  Scroll  of  the  Law 
uplifted  in  his  hands,  and  at  the  other  the  cassock- 
man  raised  aloft  the  gilded  figure  on  the  cross;  and 
Jacob  looked  from  one  to  the  other,  and  gradually  the 


THE  BROKEN  PANE  311 

Law-scroll  dwindled  away  to  the  size  of  a  tin  capsule, 
while  the  wooden  figure  waxed  till  it  overshadowed  all 
the  plain,  and  then,  opening  its  arms,  caught  him  fast 
in  its  embrace. 

So  it  had  all  begun — his  life  in  the  priest's  house, 
the  acquiring  of  strange  knowledge,  the  struggle  be 
tween  the  old  bonds  of  blood  and  the  enticements  of 
his  new  home.  Once,  and  once  only,  did  the  former 
triumph.  It  was  on  the  fifth  anniversary  of  his  flight, 
when  the  idle  curiosity  he  still  felt  concerning  the 
fate  of  his  people  grew  to  a  mighty  longing.  So  he 
stole  out  into  the  dark,  threaded  his  way,  as  if  by 
instinct,  among  the  Ghetto  streets,  until  he  stood  be 
fore  his  father's  house.  Stealthily  he  crept  up  the 
ladder  placed  at  the  side  of  the  window,  and  peeped 
into  the  room :  there  they  all  sat  round  the  little  table 
— father,  mother,  brothers,  sisters,  eating  and  making 
merry  as  though  they  had  no  cause  for  sorrow  in  the 
world.  A  jealous  anger  swept  through  his  bosom :  they 
did  not  miss  him — the  gap  had  been  filled,  the  pane 
had  been  mended.  Silently  he  crept  down  again  with 
his  resolve  firm  in  his  heart.  Overhead  his  old  enemy, 
the  weathercock,  swung  and  creaked,  but  it  no  longer 
seemed  to  say:  "You  silly  little  Jew  boy."  It  now 
said :  "  Wladimir,  Wladimir,  what  a  fine  name  we  have 
to  be  sure !  " 

And  then  he  hastened  away,  wondering  why  a  sud 
den  rush  of  blood  should  make  his  cheeks  tingle  so 
hotly  through  the  darkness. 

Thenceforth  he  lived  only  for  his  work,  and  he 
wrought  miracles  of  toil  and  application.  However  hard 
his  fellow-students  strove,  he  outstripped  them  all,  and 


312  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

forged  ahead  as  though  possessed  of  ten  men's 
strength.  But  in  his  own  heart  he  knew  the  spring 
and  motive  of  his  restless  zeal.  Every  grain  of  learn 
ing,  every  atom  of  knowledge,  was  a  boulder  for  the 
building  of  the  great  barrier-wall  that  was  to  sunder 
him  from  the  other  side  of  his  life,  and  all  it  once 
contained.  And  for  a  greater  precaution  he  let  his 
heart  turn  to  a  block  of  lead,  so  that  if  ever  he  were 
tempted  to  scale  that  wall,  it  would  drag  him  down 
again  before  he  could  achieve  his  attempt. 

And  then  he  made  for  the  goal  to  which  his  talent 
and  ambition  were  to  carry  him,  and  he  succeeded  even 
beyond  his  own  hopes.  He  stepped  from  post  to  post, 
making  one  office  the  vaulting-board  from  which  to 
reach  the  next.  At  last  they  made  him  a  judge,  and 
there  he  stopped,  for  he  was  growing  aghast  at  his 
own  greatness.  After  all,  he  could  not  get  rid  of  his 
pariah-instinct,  he  could  not  entirely  forget  the  run 
away  little  Jew  boy  whom  the  kind-hearted  priest  had 
taken  for  his  son,  to  whom  he  had  given  his  love,  his 
wealth,  his  knowledge — and  from  whom  he  had  taken 
in  return  nothing  but  his  belief:  on  whose  side  had 
been  the  bargain  ? 

He  asked  himself  the  question  many  a  time — one 
day  he  got  his  answer.  It  was  brought  to  him,  as 
he  sat  on  his  tribunal,  by  two  men,  draggle-tailed, 
shaggy-haired,  reeking  with  the  squalor  of  their  pov 
erty.  Oh!  he  knew  what  it  was  to  be  Joseph  in  Egypt 
— he  recognized  them  at  once:  these  two  men  were 
his  brothers. 

"Why  have  we  smuggled?"  they  whined.  "Be 
cause  our  father  lay  dying,  and  we  had  nothing  where- 


THE  BROKEN  PANE  313 

with  to  allay  his  sufferings,  and  we  risked  life  and  lib 
erty  to  make  his  death-bed  easier/' 

So  he  was  dead,  the  stern,  sullen-hearted  man,  and 
here  were  his  brothers — the  living  types  of  what  he 
himself  would  have  been  but  for  that  broken  pane. 
"Kisked  life  and  liberty?"  No,  the  law  of  the  land 
must  not  be  transgressed.  But  as  he  stood  outside  the 
penance  chamber,  and  listened  to  the  swishing  of  the 
lash  and  the  cries  of  the  culprits,  a  feeling  came  over 
him  as  if  his  soul  were  being  bastinadoed  by  proxy. 
True,  he  made  amends  to  them,  but  without  owning 
to  his  action,  and  he  took  no  credit  for  it — he  knew  it 
was  no  better  than  throwing  a  bone  to  a  dog  after  one 
has  kicked  him. 

Certainly,  he  was  now  a  great  judge,  and  judged 
God's  creatures  according  to  his  wisdom.  He  himself 
would  one  day  stand  before  the  Judgment  seat  of  the 
Greater  and  Greatest  Judge,  and  what  would  His  yer- 
dict  be?  Sometimes  he  thought  God  and  he  were 
colleagues,  two  of  a  trade,  as  it  were,  and  that,  there 
fore,  he  was  entitled  to  a  discount  in  his  sentence. 
It  was  an  impious  thought,  a  sacrilegious  jest;  but 
then  he  had  laughed  at  so  many  things;  one  laugh  more 
or  less 

Whew !  the  wind  came  through  the  broken  pane  with 
an  angry  gust.  Had  it  blown  the  lamp  out?  The 
judge  felt  everything  getting  so  dark  and  cold.  He 
staggered  up  from  his  seat,  fumbling  for  the  bell-cord 
— he  would  summon  Sebastian  to  take  him  to  bed — 
or  no,  he  would  rather  go  and  kiss  his  little  Eudolph 

what  was  that?  There  was  a  short,  sharp  stab 

going  like  a  rapier  through  his  body;  it  seemed  to 


314  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

him  as  if  a  splinter  of  the  pane  he  had  broken  so 
many  long  years  ago  was  being  driven  through  his 
bosom  with  quick,  clean  thrusts — surely,  nothing  else 
could  stab  like  that — could  stab  again  and  again 

until 

The  stars  of  the  night  looked  at  him  as  he  lay  there 
rigid  and  silent:  then  they  turned  to  one  another  and 
said,  reassuringly:  "True,  we,  too,  are  but  windows — 
the  windows  of  the  sky;  yet  let  us  not  fear — no  one 
shall  break  us :  are  we  not  made  of  adamant  ?  " 


THE  LEADER 

GEROLD  GAVRILOF'S  bachelor  quarters  were  comfort 
able  enough  at  all  times;  they  looked  especially  so  this 
drab  autumn  afternoon  already  fringed  with  the  twi 
light.  For  the  last  half-hour  their  proprietor  and  his 
visitor  had  been  occupying  two  of  the  comfortable, 
soporific  arm-chairs,  which,  perhaps,  was  the  reason 
why  the  conversation  had  refused  to  come  into  proper 
swing.  And  yet  Saul  Mogilev  was  good  company  as  a 
rule;  he  had  to  be,  or  else  he  would  not  have  been  on 
visiting  terms  with  Gerold  Gavrilof.  For  Gerold  did 
not  hold  himself  cheap;  he  was  blessed  with  plenty  of 
the  world's  goods,  as  his  surroundings  testified,  and 
could  afford  to  be,  and  insisted  on  being,  eclectic  in 
the  matter  of  his  acquaintances. 

"  You  seem  to  have  left  your  tongue  at  home,  Saul," 
he  said,  wearying  of  the  slow  drag  of  their  word  inter 
change. 

"  I  am  sorry,"  was  the  answer.  "  I  know  I  must 
appear  dull  to  you;  I  would  not  have  come  at  all  to-day, 
had  you  not  pressed  me." 

"What  is  it?  Another  discovery  that  is  going  to 
electrify  the  world?  For  mercy's  sake  leave  off  tell 
ing  us  humiliating  facts  about  this  poor  human  mech 
anism  of  ours.  You  do  your  best  to  show  us  what 
worms  we  are,  and  we,  in  return,  call  you  a  great  man. 
The  exchange  is  hardly  fair." 

Saul  smiled.     "  You  are  safe  against  that,  at  least, 


316  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

for  the  next  two  days,"  he  replied.  "I  am  taking  a 
rest." 

"Is  that  so?  Then  you  are  in  my  hands.  You 
won't  feel  dull  much  longer.  We  dine  together  this 
evening,  and  then  the  theatre — there's  that  new 
French  play  everybody  is  talking  ahout " 

He  stopped  as  he  saw  Saul  shaking  his  head. 

"Not  the  theatre?"  he  went  on.  "Well,  then,  the 
soiree  at  Von  Kuno's,  the  Censor;  he  is  anxious  to 
make  your  acquaintance." 

"Thank  you,  Gerold,"  said  Saul,  "hut  don't  take 
offence;  I  want  my  holiday  all  to  myself." 

"  I  see,  you  are  going  into  the  country." 

"  No,  I  am  stopping  in  town." 

Gerold  sat  up.  "What's  the  mystery?  Out  with 
it." 

"I  did  not  intend  to  make  a  mystery  of  it,"  said 
Saul,  quietly;  "to-morrow — this  evening  rather,  our 
New  Year  begins." 

Gerold  looked  blank;  then  he  laughed.  "  An  eccen 
tricity  of  the  calendar,  certainly,  but  that  still  does 
not  explain  anything." 

"  I  have  always  observed  these  days  as  a  time  for 
self-searching  and  introspection,"  continued  Saul, 
slowly,  as  though  to  drive  home  to  his  friend  every 
syllable.  "Had  you  not  told  me  you  were  born  in 
my  faith,  I  should  not  have  left  so  much  to  implica 
tion." 

"I  remember  now,"  said  Gerold;  "this  is  the  time 
when  Heaven  is  turned  into  a  counting-house  and  all 
the  angels  into  book-keepers,  and  there  is  much  traffic 
in  transgressions  and  forgiveness." 


THE  LEADER  317 

Saul  ignored  his  friend's  levity.  "  These  days  mean 
much  to  me,"  he  said  pensively;  "  they  call  to  me  from 
the  turmoil  of  the  world,  and  sanctify  my  petty  striv 
ings,  my  ignoble  ambitions;  they  remind  me  that,  after 
all,  there  is  a  greater  purpose  and  a  wider  issue  for 
which  I  must  work.  They  are  the  incentive  that 
spurs  me  on  when  I  flag,  and  have  time  to  take  stock 
and  measure  of  the  vanity  of  it  all.  And,  further, 
there  is  their  human  aspect:  they  are  the  links — the 
only  links,  perhaps — that  tie  me  to  my  race,  and  make 
me  part  and  parcel  of  its  destiny." 

"  Links,  you  say  ?  "  asked  Gerold,  taking  his  tone 
from  the  other.  "  Call  them  fetters,  and  instead  of 
destiny  say  doom.  For  a  matter  of  tawdry  sentiment, 
which  is  all  it  comes  to,  you  are  content  to  cramp 
your  talents  into  the  narrowest  scope,  to  hamper  your 
self  with  obstacles  voluntary  and  of  your  own  making. 
I  tell  you,  you  are  acting  criminally;  you,  who  are 
called  to  higher  things,  to  work  for  the  weal  of  man 
kind,  you  have  no  right  to  be  of  a  section.  The 
world  claims  you — that  is  the  call  you  should  follow." 

f(  And  you  ?  "  asked  Saul,  looking  smilingly  at  his 
friend. 

"I?  I  am  a  nonentity,  the  ordinary  rank-and- 
file  specimen;  it  does  not  matter  a  straw  to  whom  I 
belong.  The  little  I  could  do  would  work  no  good  and 
no  ill.  That  is  why  I  have  not  broken  away  entirely 
from  my  race.  I  have  only  made  my  concessions: 
Gershon  Gabrielovitch  became  Gerold  Gavrilof.  I 
have,  moreover,  refrained  from  flaunting  my  origin  in 
people's  faces.  The  old  trunk  still  owns  me  as  one 
of  its  shoots;  I  wish  it  joy  of  the  possession.  But  you, 


318  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

you  have  wrestled  with  the  giantess  Nature,  you  have 
wrested  her  secrets  from  her,  and  now  you  go  on 
repeating  to  yourself  old  women's  tales.  I  have  no 
patience  with  you." 

"At  least  one  of  those  old  women  was  a  heroine," 
said  Saul,  with  a  twitching  of  his  lip  and  a  moisture 
in  his  eyes. 

"  From  that  it  does  not  follow  that  she  was  the 
mother  of  a  hero,"  replied  Gerold,  soberly.  "  You  are 
not  a  hero  to  me,  Saul;  you  shrink  from  tearing  the 
mask  from  falsehoods,  because  they  happen  to  be  time- 
honored,  and  because  you  don't  want  to  know  what 
the  truth  is  like.  And  your  reason  for  that  is  a  knock- 
kneed  sentimentalism  that  prevents  you  from  walking 
through  life  firm  and  upright,  your  head  the  height  of 
the  world's  head.  Or,  at  the  best,  you  may  dub  your 
self  martyr,  and  between  him  and  the  fool  there  is 
frequently  only  the  difference  of  a  stiff  neck." 

"  Coward  or  fool  ? "  said  Saul,  his  eyes  gleaming 
brightly,  perhaps  with  the  after-sheen  of  the  vanished 
tear.  "  At  least  you  give  me  the  benefit  of  the  doubt, 
which  only  puts  you  to  the  trouble  of  listening  to  my 
defence  on  both  counts.  Well,  let  the  coward  have 
the  first  turn.  A  band  of  harassed,  hunted  weaklings 
are  encamped  in  the  wilderness.  At  night  time  they 
sit  shivering  in  fearful  wonder  when  the  unseen  hand 
will  strike  next  out  of  the  darkness ;  and  yet  they  dread 
the  daylight,  for  that  only  makes  them  more  surely  the 
target  of  their  enemies.  Few  among  them  have 
weapons;  and  these,  whom  they  look  upon  as  their 
protection  and  rampart,  these  are  assailed  by  the 
honeyed  blandishments  of  the  foe,  deadlier  than  his 


THE  LEADER  319 

deadliest  darts.  e  Come  to  us/  he  says,  '  give  up  the 
thankless  task  of  battling  for  a  lost  cause.  Ours  is 
the  victory;  come  quickly,  or  you  will  perish  with  their 
peril/  One  of  the  champions  goes,  the  other  stops  at 
his  appointed  post.  Say,  Gerold,  who  is  the  coward, 
the  steadfast  or  the  renegade  ?  " 

Gerold  was  silent,  but  his  brows  contracted  with  dis 
pleasure. 

"  Now  for  the  fool,"  went  on  Saul,  dispassionately. 
"You  will  see,  Gerold,  that  I  am  not  so  improvident 
as  you  think  me.  I  know  how  to  recoup  myself  for 
my  self -sacrifice.  Shall  I  admit  it?  There  is  much 
selfishness  in  my  folly.  By  holding  to  my  people  I 
also  partake  of  their  heritage.  I  can  claim  my  share 
in  the  glory  of  their  mission " 

"Mission?"  broke  in  Gerold  with  a  sneer.  "It 
spells  omission  nowadays;  they  have  no  time,  no  bent 
for  anything  save  their  worldly  interests,  their  heap 
ing  of  gold." 

"Yes,  that  is  the  taunt  of  our  enemies/'  replied 
Saul,  calmly;  "  and  to  some  of  us— I  am  not  reproach 
ing  you,  Gerold — it  means  the  excuse  for  secession. 
And  yet  nothing  can  prove  our  ultimate  purpose  more 
manifestly.  To  the  lowliest  of  God's  creatures  has 
been  given  some  shield,  some  armor  against  its  adver 
saries.  What  if  we  were  a  people  of  beggars — would 
we  have  survived?  If  Israel  is  heaping  gold,  it  is  pil 
ing  it  into  the  bulwarks,  behind  which  it  is  biding  its 
time,  till  the  hearts  of  men  shall  beat  more  lovingly 
together,  till  the  vultures  of  strife  and  hatred  shall 
have  ravaged  their  talons  into  bluntness,  and  then,  at 
God's  beck,  we  shall  sally  forth,  and  our  lips  shall 


320  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

utter  loudly  and  fearlessly  the  burden  of  our  apostle- 
ship." 

"And  meantime/'  asked  Gerold,  with  a  shoulder- 
shrug,  "you  are  staking  your  hope  of  reward  on  the 
future  which  you  will  not  live  to  see  ?  " 

"Meantime  I  have  my  helief  in  the  special  Provi 
dence  that  is  our  guardian,  and  that  means  belief  in 
self  and  confidence  of  achievement.  Faith  is  a  tonic 
which  you  can  buy  of  no  apothecary." 

"It  is  a  little  out  of  fashion,  though;  and  no 
wonder,  considering  it  was  patented  some  thousands 
of  years  ago,"  said  Gerold,  lightly.  "Its  virtues  lie 
chiefly  in  the  imagination;  the  only  reality  about  it 
is  its  defects.  There  is  no  faith;  there  is  only  cant, 
and  narrowness,  and  bigotry." 

"  I  can  but  speak  for  myself,"  said  Saul. 

"Not  even  for  yourself,"  returned  Gerold,  hotly; 
"you  are  mistaken  in  your  own  mind.  Look  with 
your  eyes,  use  your  judgment,  your  better  judgment 
I  call  it.  Live  for  yourself,  not  for  a  shadow,  a  delu 
sion.  Do  it,  if  not  for  your  own  sake,  at  least  for 
mine." 

Saul  looked  at  him  astonished.  "I  don't  under 
stand,"  he  said  at  length. 

Gerold  hesitated  a  full  minute;  then  the  answer 
wrenched  itself  from  his  lips: 

"Because,  if  you  do  not,  there  is  no  friendship 
possible  between  us." 

te  You  jest,"  said  Saul,  starting  up. 

"Unhappily,  I  do  not,"  replied  Gerold,  his  eyes 
seeking  the  ground;  "I  cannot  tell  you  why,  but  I 
Cannot  feel  at  home  with  men  whose  opinions  are  not 


THE  LEADER  321 

in  concert  with  mine.  I  cannot  bear  the  thought  that, 
while  our  hands  clasp  each  other  in  brotherhood,  there 
is  between  our  hearts  an  abyss  wherein,  suddenly  and 
without  warning,  our  friendship  may  one  day  become 
engulfed.  It  is  best  we  should  sunder  our  ways  be 
times;  we  shall  save  ourselves  much  heart-ache  in  the 
end." 

Saul  got  up  and  strode  over  to  him.  "  I  guessed 
something  of  this,"  he  said,  with  a  tremor  in  his  voice, 
"  and,  therefore,  I  have  kept  my  lips  closed  on  this  all 
these  months  we  have  known  each  other;  but  for  my 
unfortunate  reference  it  might  never " 

"  Impossible,"  said  Gerold ;  "  it  would  have  come 
our  way  later  on,  when  our  hearts  had  become  still 
more  closely  knitted,  and  the  agony  would  have  been 
greater.  Believe  me,  it  is  better  so." 

"  Look,  Gerold,"  said  Saul,  after  a  pause,  his  hand 
on  the  other's  shoulder;  "you  said  that  faith  was 
narrowness,  and  now  you  let  your  own  action  belie 
your  words.  I  that  am  narrow  can  bear  with  you 
as  you  are.  I  make  no  attempt  to  bring  you  into  line 
with  me.  But  you  who  make  a  principle  of  your  want 
of  bias,  your  breadth  of  view,  have  no  room  to  house 
these  puny  self-delusions  of  mine;  what  am  I  to 
think?" 

"  Think  what  you  like — that  I  am  a  whimsical  fool, 
whose  humors  play  fast  and  loose  with  him.  Saul,  I 
am  willing  to  accept  the  humiliation:  treat  me  as  a 
child,  and  give  way  to  me.  Show  how  great  you  are; 
show  yourself  the  hero :  follow  me !  " 

"  Gain  a  friend  and  lose  Heaven  ? "  replied  Saul, 
half-aloud.  "No,  Gerold,  you  ask  too  much.  Let  it 


322  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

be  as  you  say:  our  ways  shall  lie  apart.  One  day  my 
good  fortune  may  make  them  to  cross  each  other 
again.  Till  then,  good-bye." 

Softly  he  walked  to  the  door,  and  stopped  for  a 
moment  with  his  hand  on  the  latch,  as  though  he 
half  expected  to  be  called  back.  But  Gerold  sat  on, 
his  head  low  down  on  his  chest,  immovable,  as  if  he 
had  suddenly  lost  all  power  of  motion.  Long  after 
SauPs  departure  he  fancied  he  could  still  hear  his 
footsteps  descend  the  staircase,  slowly  and  reverently, 
as  though  he  were  walking  away  from  a  grave.  For 
a  moment  an  irresistible  desire  had  seized  on  Gerold 
to  hurry  after  his  friend,  to  drag  him  back  and  ask 
his  forgiveness.  But  his  resolve  had  held  him  back, 
his  resolve  that  had  been  slowly  shaping  itself  all 
through  their  colloquy,  and  the  motive  of  which  he 
must  keep  secret  from  Saul.  Could  he  tell  him  of  the 
vague,  nameless  jealousy  that  was  beginning  to  tinge 
their  intercourse  with  wormwood?  Their  friendship 
was  only  six  months  old,  and  it  was  as  full-grown  as 
though  it  had  a  score  of  years  to  its  credit.  By  mere 
accident  Gerold  had  met  the  brilliant  young  physiol 
ogist,  who,  despite  his  youth,  had  already  made  con 
siderable  stir  in  scientific  circles.  He  had  recognized 
in  him  a  nature  to  which  guile  and  falsehood  were 
strange,  and  he  revelled  in  his  company,  which  came 
to  him  like  the  pure  breath  of  Heaven  after  the  foul 
atmosphere  of  mercenary  associates  and  grovelling 
sycophants,  in  which  he  had  moved  all  his  life.  That 
was  all  the  benefit  which  had  accrued  to  him  from  his 
wealth,  from  the  miles  and  miles  of  forest,  from  the 
countless  acres  of  pasture  and  plough-land  his  father 


THE  LEADER  323 

had  left  him.  Ever  since  his  tenth  year  he  had  been 
in  the  hands  of  strangers,  who  allowed  him  to  drift 
as  he  pleased,  till  he  had  drifted  away  from  everybody, 
and  his  solitude  hedged  him  in  as  with  a  wall  of  ice, 
which  no  one  had  completely  succeeded  in  crossing. 
But  when  he  looked  into  Saufs  face  for  the  first  time, 
he  felt  his  heart  become  alive  and  warm,  and  with  its 
warmth  the  ring  of  ice  melted,  and  through  the  breach 
Saul  stepped  into  his  life. 

And  now  his  fate,  which  had  destined  him  to  an 
existence  lonely  and  self-contained,  seemed  to  track 
him  further.  He  had  admired  his  friend,  he  had 
triumphed  in  his  triumphs;  not  a  shadow  of  envy 
lurked  in  his  heart  because  the  other  had  been  chosen 
for  a  higher  sphere  than  he  himself  could  ever  hope 
to  attain — not  till  this  unhappy  hour.  Was  Saul 
not  sufficiently  dowered  with  the  gifts  which  mere 
wealth  could  not  buy?  Was  his  life  not  full  and 
complete  enough  with  the  joy  of  endeavor,  with  the 
certainty  of  attainment?  And  now  came  the  revela 
tion  of  SauPs  inner  life,  of  that  soul-sustaining,  heart- 
gladdening  activity  which  he  kept  for  his  own  use  and 
benefit,  and  of  which  he  gave  no  toll  to  the  world. 
For  that,  at  least,  one  had  no  need  to  be  a  genius, 
and  yet  Gerold  felt  that  it  had  likewise  been  placed 
beyond  his  reach.  And  so  that  jealous  rage  had  come 
over  him,  which  had  to  be  vented — as  though  it  were 
the  madness  of  revenge — on  that  unseen  Power  which 
had  treated  him  with  such  cruel  injustice;  and  he  had 
gratified  it  in  suicidal  perverseness,  for  he  could  strike 
the  enemy  only  through  his  own  heart.  He  thought 
he  saw  now  why  the  world  was  so  dead  and  empty  for 


324  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

him;  he  had  not  been  given  the  sense  of  touch  where 
with  to  feel  the  vivifying  essence  which  must  animate 
it;  his  ear  was  deaf  to  the  great  pulse  that  vibrated  and 
spread  order  and  harmony  through  the  chaotic  void. 

Sick  at  heart  and  dizzy  of  brain,  he  stumbled 
through  the  darkness  into  the  open.  He  made  an 
attempt  at  a  meal  in  the  cafe;  it  was  an  ignominious 
failure.  He  sauntered  about  till  the  theatres  opened, 
and  sought  to  find  distraction  in  the  new  play,  which  he 
had  anticipated  with  much  eagerness.  Two  acts  were 
enough  for  him,  although  the  house  was  enthusiastic; 
he  could  not  follow  the  thread  of  the  action;  the  fig 
ures  on  the  stage  were  mere  silhouettes;  they  talked 
gibberish.  On  his  way  he  passed  Von  Kuno's  house, 
brilliantly  lighted  up  and  lined  with  an  interminable 
length  of  equipages.  He  was  glad  he  was  not  in 
evening  dress,  and  so  could  save  himself  the  trouble 
of  even  deliberating  whether  he  should  join  the  gay 
throng.  "When  he  reached  home,  he  found  waiting  for 
him  a  perfumed  note  from  Madame  Councillor  Roth- 
man,  wherein  she  desired  the  favor  of  his  company  at 
tea  that  evening — quite  en  famille — only  she  and  her 
daughter  would  be  present.  With  a  grimace  of  dis 
gust  he  tore  the  missive  into  shreds.  How  tired  he 
felt  of  it  all — the  artificiality,  the  hollowness,  the 
shallowness,  the  surface-smiles.  His  heart  had  been 
beginning  to  beat  true,  and  in  tune  with  itself,  be 
cause  deft  fingers  had  been  playing  upon  it,  and  now 
it  would  be  thrown  back  into  the  old  jar  and  jangle 
and  discord.  If  only  he  could  sleep — a  natural  sleep, 
not  this  numbed,  narcotic  languishing  which  lay  like 
lead  in  all  his  limbs.  And  as  he  tossed  restlessly 


THE  LEADER  325 

through  the  long  and  ever-lengthening  night,  a  sug 
gestion  entered  his  head,  as  yet  dim  and  undefined, 
because  it  seemed  so  strange  and  purposeless;  for  he 
could  hardly  trust  himself  that  it  would  survive  its 
conception.  And  yet  it  grew  steadily,  developing  in 
fulness  and  strength,  and  by  the  morning  it  had  taken 
to  itself  shape  and  substance. 

About  ten  o'clock  he  sallied  forth  towards  the  syna 
gogue  where  he  knew  Saul  worshipped.  He  had 
accompanied  him  there  once  before,  only  as  far  as 
the  entrance  of  course,  when  Saul  was  commemorating 
the  anniversary  of  his  mother's  death.  On  the  pre 
tence  of  being  a  newspaper  reporter,  Gerold  gained 
admission.  Near  the  door  he  stopped  and  surveyed 
the  scene.  He  had  never  witnessed  the  like  before. 
Never  before  had  he  seen  that  look  of  joyous  resigna 
tion,  of  submissive  hopefulness,  on  human  counte 
nances.  It  came  home  to  him,  in  a  flash  of  compre 
hension,  that  if  he  had  more  often  had  occasion  and 
opportunity  to  see  his  discarded  brethren  thus  lifting 
themselves  above  their  ordinary,  everyday  selves,  he 
would  have  been  more  slow  to  set  them  down  for  a 
brood  of  crawling  groundlings,  of  dust-eating  self- 
seekers.  Were  they  merely  that,  they  would  not  bear 
on  their  faces  this  pride  of  race,  the  memory  of  their 
traditions,  the  impress  of  quiet  grandeur  stamped  upon 
them  by  pain-quivering  centuries.  They  knew  and  felt 
who  they  were;  but  they  guarded  their  self-knowledge 
zealously,  for  to  divulge  it  would  be  sacrilege. 

So  the  service  went  on,  solemn  and  more  solemn 
still,  until  Gerold  felt  a  shiver  tingle  through  him 
from  crown  to  foot.  Loud  and  long  and  resonant 


326  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

rang  out  the  blast  of  the  ram's  horn.  Gerold  had 
not  heard  it  since  his  childhood,  but  he  remembered 
how  his  frightened  hand  had  sought  his  father's,  to 
assure  himself  of  some  protecting  presence  in  the 
midst  of  this  strange  alarm.  And  again,  despite  the 
long  interval,  the  same  feeling  took  hold  of  him,  the 
urgent  craving  for  kith  and  kindred,  the  desire  to  be 
part  of  a  whole,  to  merge  himself  indissolubly,  so  that 
he  might  never  again  stand  alone.  That  was,  no  doubt, 
the  call  of  which  Saul  had  spoken,  the  call  to  summon 
the  stragglers  back  to  the  fold,  to  remind  all  Israel 
that  its  salvation  lay  in  its  unity.  And  now  that  he 
listened  to  it,  it  seemed  to  him  so  easy  to  answer  its 
bidding;  it  drew  him  gently,  lovingly,  for  it  had 
touched  a  long-slumbering  echo  in  his  heart,  and  had 
stirred  it  mightily  into  life.  Why  had  he  come  to  the 
synagogue?  What  had  been  his  purpose?  He  had 
hardly  known:  but  dimly,  divinely  he  had  fathomed 
that  one  need  only  set  out  on  his  quest  for  light,  and 
sooner  or  later  God  would  hold  out  to  him  His  beacon. 

Curiously  the  adjoining  worshippers  glanced  at  his 
rigid  figure,  as  he  stood  there  like  one  petrified,  his 
eyes  raised  aloft,  his  lips  set  as  in  a  vice.  So  he 
remained,  till  a  sudden  commotion  told  him  the  service 
was  over.  He  was  among  the  first  to  leave;  outside 
in  the  courtyard  he  turned  and  waited ;  he  was  waiting 
for  Saul;  he  had  something  to  tell  him.  And  pres 
ently  he  saw  the  tall,  stoop-shouldered  form  of  his 
friend  issuing.  Quickly  he  went  up  to  him,  seized  him 
by  the  hand,  and  whispered: 

"  Saul,  if  you  cannot  follow,  will  you  lead  ?  " 


RABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST 

THE  words  of  Kabbi  Elchanan,  the  son  of  Aaron  the 
Levite,  unto  Kiffka,  daughter  of  Baruch  the  Scribe: — 
Peace  and  greeting  unto  thee,  0  bride  of  my  youth, 
main-stay  of  my  manhood,  comforter  of  my  old  age. 
Whereas  Leyb  Tchariner,  thy  kinsman,  has  handed  to 
me  a  letter  written  at  thy  dictate  and  over  thy  name — 
for  thou  art  thyself  no  expert  in  penmanship,  despite 
the  cunning  of  thy  father — what  says  the  proverb? 
"  The  children  of  shoemakers  go  barefoot " — the  letter 
wherein  thou  inquirest  concerning  me,  and  makest 
great  lamentation  that  since  the  day  I  set  foot  from  our 
threshold  no  tidings  have  reached  thee  of  my  well- 
being.  And  at  sight  and  perusal  thereof  my  soul 
lifted  her  hands  in  repentance.  For  as  thou  sayest,  it 
is  truly  spoken:  seven  portions  of  the  Law  have  been 
read,  and  on  the  coming  Sabbath  shall  be  uttered  the 
third  Benediction  of  the  New  Moon,  since  what  time  I 
started  forth  to  sojourn  amongst  strangers;  the  cause 
thereof  being,  as  thou  well  knowest,  the  gathering  of 
a  marriage-portion  for  our  daughter,  the  sole  and 
single  issue  of  our  love — may  God  make  her  like  unto 
Sarah,  Eachel,  and  Leah,  her  forebears.  And  verily, 
were  it  not  for  that,  I  should  have  returned  long  ere 
this,  for  one  endures  hardship  and  tribulation  in  dwel 
ling  among  men  of  alien  speech  and  customs.  But 
the  matter  proceeds  somewhat  tardily,  and  it  is  because 
my  mind  is  ever  intent  upon  the  achieving  thereof  that 


328  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

my  hand  has  been  turned  aside  from  the  admonishings 
of  my  heart.  Now,  however,,  open  thine  ears  unto  the 
tale  of  my  wanderings;  for  it  shall  be  set  forth  in  all 
detail,  both  my  pilgrimage  and  all  that  appertains  unto 
my  quest. 

It  was  upon  the  third  day  after  Pentecost,  if  my 
memory  serves  me  truly,  that  I  girded  up  my  aged 
loins  to  make  adventure  into  the  land  of  Britannia, 
whereof,  as  report  says  with  truth,  a  woman  is  the 
ruler,  a  land  lying  towards  the  sinking  of  the  sun. 
And  further  I  remember  how  my  going  forth  laid  a 
gloom  upon  thy  soul,  and  how  thou  didst  endeavor 
vainly  to  clutch  me  by  the  caftan,  and  hold  me  back 
with  much  shrieking  and  wringing  of  hands,  until  the 
women  surrounded  thee,  and  conveyed  thee  to  thy 
couch,  whereon  thou  didst  lie,  a  swoon  holding  thy 
senses  captive.  And  as  I  turned  me  and  gazed  back, 
behold,  methought  that  my  house — to  compare  small 
things  to  great — seemed  likest  to  Yerusholayim  upon 
the  day  of  its  destruction.  But  wherefore  didst  thou 
afflict  thy  soul?  Knowest  thou  not  that  God  is  ever 
at  the  right  hand  of  the  righteous,  and  maketh  clear 
his  path  from  the  ambushes  of  wicked  men?  And 
further,  was  there  not  a  dire  stress  upon  me  to  collect 
the  amount  of  the  dowry?  For  I  am  a  man,  poor  after 
God's  own  heart,  as  the  saying  goes,  and  the  poor  must 
make  trial  of  many  things  before  they  enter  the  palace 
of  happiness,  and  then  it  is  mostly  through  a  postern 
gate.  With  these  thoughts  did  I  set  out;  and  many 
men  of  the  congregation  remitted  their  toil  in  their 
several  handicrafts  to  give  me  escort  as  far  as  Kavass- 
Novrod,  where  there  was  to  await  me,  according  to 


RABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  329 

concert,  a  driver  with  his  conveyance  to  carry  me  across 
the  frontier  for  a  consideration.  But  when  we  came 
up,  he  made  show  of  being  very  wroth,  and  looked 
very  angry  as  to  his  eyes,  saying  that  on  my  account 
he  had  delayed  long  over  the  given  time,  and  that  he 
would  incur  much  blame  and  abuse  from  his  master 
on  his  return.  And  upon  that  plea  he  made  claim  that 
the  stipulated  hire  must  be  increased  by  fifty  copecks. 
And  what  could  I  do,  being  in  the  hands  of  the  Phil 
istine,  and  oppressed  by  him?  And  thereupon  we 
drove  off,  and  the  company  followed  three  ells  shouting 
after  me  the  usual  "  May  the  Lord  bless  thee  and  pre 
serve  thee,"  repeating  it  seven  times.  Then,  indeed,  my 
heart  became  desolate,  and  I  wept  many  tears;  and  for  a 
distraction  I  took  from  my  wallet  "  The  Guide  of  the 
Ignorant,"  and  read  therein  until  it  came  on  dark,  and 
my  eyes  refused  their  service.  Then  I  laid  me  down 
and  slept  throughout  the  night  without  a  fear,  for  I 
had  prayed  my  night  prayer,  and  had  dealt  with  the 
Tetragrammaton  by  Gematrya,  so  as  to  conjure  Michael 
and  Gabriel  to  stand  by  and  encompass  me  with  their 
wings.  And  towards  dawn,  when  all  the  stars  had  re 
turned  to  heaven  for  the  morning  prayers,  the  Bal-ha- 
golah,  the  driver,  to  wit,  awakened  me  by  a  thrust  of 
his  foot. 

"  Rouse  thee,"  he  cried,  "  and  get  thee  into  thy 
hiding-place;  for  we  have  passed  the  last  milestone 
before  the  toll-house." 

Now  I  must  make  known  to  thee,  0  wife  of  my 
bosom,  that  the  wagon  whereon  I  rode  was  freighted 
with  skins  of  bullocks;  and  my  plan  was  to  conceal 
myself  amongst  these,  and  under  cover  thereof  to  cross 


330  STRANGEBS  AT  THE  GATE 

the  frontier.  For  not  being  possessed  of  a  passport, 
since  I  was  lacking  the  money  wherewith  to  procure 
such  an  one,  necessity  was  upon  me  to  pass  over  the 
border  by  stealth;  and  thus  is  a  poor  man  rendered  dis 
honest  in  the  land  of  oppression.  Now  as  to  the  bul 
lock-skins,  they  were  but  freshly  hided,  so  that  they 
lay  limp  and  huddled,  and  the  smell  was  not  the 
savor  of  spice  and  cinnamon.  Into  these,  then,  I 
coiled  myself,  and  the  driver  heaped  them  about  my 
feet  and  body  that  I  might  not  be  discovered.  So  we 
rode  on,  I  direly  struggling  with  my  breath,  until  I 
heard  a  voice  cry  "  Halt!  "  And  then,  indeed,  my  giz 
zard  quaked  mightily  within  me. 

"What  kind  of  manure  dost  thou  cart  there,  Gre- 
gorov?  "  asked  one  of  the  sentries;  for  I  could  hear  the 
clanking  of  their  sabres. 

"No  manure,"  answered  the  driver;  "untanned 
leather,  that  is  all." 

"And  how  much  carcass  inside?"  spoke  the  sentry. 

"  By  the  head  of  my  patron  saint,"  said  the  driver, 
"  no  living  thing  could  draw  breath  in  there,  unless  it 
be  a  snoutless  skunk." 

"  Or  a  Jew,"  added  the  sentry,  and  they  all  laughed 
inordinately. 

So  we  were  allowed  to  pass,  and  I  crept  from  under 
neath  my  cover,  and  eagerly  quaffed  the  air  of  heaven. 
And  then  the  driver  importuned  me  strongly  to  give 
him  yet  two  more  roubles  for  the  danger  he  had  run; 
or  else  he  would  turn  back  to  the  custom-house  and 
deliver  me  up.  But  I  prevailed  upon  him  to  wait  till 
we  reached  an  inn,  for  I  was  at  that  moment  at  my 
devotions,  and  might  not  engage  in  business  of  any 


RABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  331 

sort.  And  no  sooner  had  we  come  to  the  inn,  when  I 
plied  him  with  vodka,  the  cheap  kind,  at  two  copecks 
the  measure;  and  he,  being  weary  with  night-vigil  and 
drinking  upon  an  empty  stomach,  became  drowsy,  and 
incontinently  he  slept.  And  thereupon  I  debated 
with  myself  as  to  the  two  roubles  I  had  promised 
him.  Not  that  I  had  intention  to  withhold  them 
from  him  in  requital  for  his  greed,  nor  did  I  think 
of  the  kick  which  he  had  bestowed  upon  me;  but 
there  came  into  my  mind  the  saying  of  our  sages: 
"  Whoso  awakeneth  a  sleeper,  draggeth  a  human  soul 
out  of  heaven  by  the  feet."  So,  not  wishing  to  com 
mit  iniquity,  and  not  knowing  how  long  his  drunken 
sleep  might  endure,  being  myself  in  haste,  I  waited  not 
to  hand  him  the  money,  but  got  me  forth.  And  that 
is  how  I  slipped  under  the  hands  of  the  frontier-watch 
men;  for  God  had  stricken  them  with  blindness. 

And  now  I  had  come  into  the  land  of  Ashkanaz, 
which  is  Edom  on  the  hither  side  of  Jordan,  forasmuch 
as  its  people  are  evilly  minded  towards  our  race.  And 
I  made  observation  that  their  language  is  not  unlike 
our  own,  being,  in  fact,  an  abortion  thereof,  and  com 
parable  to  it  in  the  degree  of  similitude  between  an 
ape  and  a  man;  and  they  speak  it  with  much  mincing 
of  the  mouth,  even  like  girls  when  they  are  about  to 
be  kissed  on  the  lips.  But  of  that  I  have  no  knowl 
edge,  and  speak  only  upon  report  and  hearsay.  So 
being  now,  as  it  were,  in  the  wilderness,  I  followed 
closely  upon  the  instructions  which  Moshke  Kitsler,  the 
glazier,  had  imparted  unto  me.  For  thou  knowest  the 
story  how  he  went  to  this  country  of  Britannia  two 
years  ago,  having  received  a  letter  to  come  and  claim 


332  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

his  brother's  inheritance;  and  when  he  arrived,  behold 
there  had  been  no  brother,  and  there  was  no  inheri 
tance,  and  the  whole  thing  was  the  chicanery  of  some 
one  who  bore  Moshke  a  grudge,  suspicion  pointing 
to  Elya  Schmendriak,  who  had  gone  to  this  town  of 
London  because  Moshke  had  married  the  woman  whom 
Elya  had  loved.  And  I  have  sought  out  Schmendriak, 
and  questioned  him  straightly  upon  the  matter;  but  he 
looked  at  me  with  brazen  eyes  and  denied  all  knowledge 
of  it.  So  then  I  went  by  the  instruction  which  Moshke 
has  bought  at  great  cost  and  by  much  tribulation  of 
soul. 

And  he  had  enjoined  me  to  make  my  way  first  to 
Ostrovno;  and  since  there  was  a  market  gathering  at 
the  place  on  the  morrow,  I  had  no  trouble  in  finding 
accommodation  with  one  of  the  wagoners,  of  whom 
there  were  many  proceeding  thither.  And  by  reason 
of  one  of  the  horses  falling  lame,  we  arrived  not  there 
till  nightfall.  Thenceforward  I  was  to  journey  by  a 
certain  wondrous  contrivance  whereof  I  have  heard 
men  speak,  but  such  as  is  unknown  to  thee  that  hast 
no  concern  in  the  business  of  the  world.  And  though 
I  have  become  familiar  with  the  thing,  and  have  used 
it  for  my  service  on  several  occasions  by  this  time,  the 
first  sight  and  aspect  of  it  brought  upon  me  a  deep 
amazement.  For  standing  there  in  the  gloom,  having 
first  converted  much  shining  silver  into  a  worthless 
four-cornered  scrap  of  paste-paper,  I  thought  I  beheld 
a  monster  with  fiery  eyes  issuing  from  the  bowels  of 
the  earth,  and  flying  towards  me  on  wings  of  smoke 
and  flame,  uttering  hoarse  screeches  from  outspread 
jaws.  And  in  these  jaws,  wherefrom  upleapt  long 


KABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  333 

tongues  of  fire,  I  saw  three  men  writhing  like  Cha- 
nanya,  Mishael,  and  Azariah,  in  Nebuchadnezzar's  fur 
nace;  yet,  like  them,  they  were  not  consumed.  And 
then  the  prodigy  stood  still,  panting  and  snorting,  and 
I  repeated  the  blessing  which  is  incumbent  upon  us  at 
beholding  an  untoward  spectacle;  but  though  I  looked 
narrowly,  I  saw  nothing  of  the  two  score  demons  which 
Moshke  swore  were  harnessed  to  the  contrivance  to  set 
it  in  motion.  And  I  could  make  no  conjecture  as  to 
the  mode  of  its  propelling,  but  I  stood  and  marvelled 
much  at  the  cunning  of  the  Gentile  and  his  handiwork. 
And  to  me,  thus  distracted,  there  came  a  man,  a  dig 
nitary  of  the  town,  it  seemed,  for  there  were  strings 
of  golden  braid  across  his  bosom  and  a  silver  cockade 
in  his  cap. 

"Where  are  you  bound  for?"  he  accosted  me. 

"  I  am  going  to  Hamburg,  to  sail  by  the  ship,  your 
Honor,"  I  said. 

"Then  make  haste  and  enter,  else  you  will  be  left 
behind,"  he  said  surlily.  And  with  that  he  tore  open 
a  panel  in  the  flank  of  the  monster,  and  flung  me  into 
the  bulk  and  belly  thereof;  and  its  entrails  were  made 
of  wood,  fashioned  into  seats  for  men  to  sit  upon.  And 
for  a  little  time  I  cowered  there  bewildered,  for  I  felt 
the  ground  move  under  me,  and  the  darkness  without 
whirled  past  me  in  great  flakes  of  blackness,  and  there 
was  no  resting-place  for  my  eyes.  But  when  I  turned 
them  upon  the  company  that  sat  by  my  side  or  fronting 
me,  I  saw  much  laughter  upon  their  faces,  whereat  I 
was  greatly  comforted,  for  men  do  not  smile  when  the 
danger  of  death  is  upon  them.  And  among  them  there 
was  a  young  man  with  glasses  as  to  his  eyes,  a  great 


334  STBANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

scar  as  to  his  forehead,,  and  a  large  pipe  with  long 
wooden  stem  and  porcelain  bowl  as  to  his  mouth.  And 
he,  having  toised  me  for  some  time,  addressed  me  as 
follows: 

"What  takes  thee  from  out  thy  door-posts,  Judas 
Yeshariat?  Art  thou  going  in  search  of  the  Lost 
Tribes?" 

Thereon  I  made  reply,  swallowing  my  anger  for  that 
he  had  misnamed  me  strangely: 

"My  son,  truly  say  our  sages:  '  He  that  openeth  his 
mouth  in  ignorance,  shall  close  it  in  confusion.'  For 
it  stands  written  that  the  Sons  of  Moses  abide  on  the 
further  side  of  the  sand-river  Sambatyon,  and  no  man 
may  cross  it,  for  all  the  week  it  heaves  with  whirlwinds 
of  stones  and  dust,  and  on  the  Sabbath,  when  it  is  at 
rest,  it  is  not  lawful  to  travel  more  than  a  thousand 
cubits;  but  the  river  measures  a  thousand  and  one." 

And  the  company  listened  with  open  ears;  but  the 
young  man  aforesaid,  not  heeding  my  presence,  as 
though  I  were  a  hay-stack  or  a  piece  of  rock,  turned  to 
them,  and  said  again: 

"  Is  it  not  strange  that  these  people  cleave  so  per 
versely  to  their  superstitions?  And  then  there  is 
much  talk  of  progress  and  enlightenment  in  these 
days." 

But  then  I  could  contain  myself  no  longer,  and  burst 
into  speech.  "  Young  sir,"  I  said,  "  it  may  be  true  that 
we  are  dark  as  to  our  beliefs,  and  that  we  do  not  see 
clearly  the  drift  and  purport  of  things;  and  that  per 
chance  may  be  because  our  eyes  are  blinded  by  tears 
for  our  nation's  sorrows.  But  this  much  we  know  well 
amongst  us,  that  it  is  enjoined  to  treat  the  stranger  in 


EABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  335 

our  gates  with  kindness  and  courtesy,  and  that  it  is 
becoming  for  mere  striplings  to  pay  reverence  unto 
grey  hairs.  For  what  blessing  is  there  in  knowledge, 
if  it  be  poisoned  by  malice  of  the  heart  ?  " 

And  then  I  ceased;  but  no  one  answered,  and  the 
young  man  busied  himself  strenuously  in  the  rubbing 
of  his  spectacles.  But  I  stood  up  and  silently  repeated 
the  evening  prayer,  not  forgetting  the  three  backward 
paces  at  conclusion  of  the  Eighteen  Benedictions.  And 
I  slept  soundly  through  the  night;  but  in  the  morning, 
when  I  awoke,  lo,  a  woe  and  a  calamity  had  come  upon 
me.  For  the  ringlets  at  the  side  of  my  head,  the  glory 
of  my  temples  and  the  badge  of  my  piety,  had  been 
shorn  away  to  the  roots;  and  in  my  girdle  was  stuck  a 
fragment  of  paper  whereon  were  written  these  words, 
for  I  have  had  them  expounded  to  me  since:  "  Ahasue- 
rus,  thou  hast  convinced  me  of  the  error  of  my  ways; 
therefore,  mindful  of  what  thou  didst  say,  I  have  taken 
away  with  me  thy  grey  hairs  to  reverence  them  at  my 
leisure ";  and  the  message  was  signed  "  Bierbauch, 
Student  of  the  Theologies."  And  then  I  stood  up,  for 
I  was  left  alone  of  all  the  company,  and  invoked  upon 
him  all  the  tribulations  of  Hiob,  and  all  the  impreca 
tions  which  Balaam  was  not  permitted  to  utter  against 
the  children  of  Israel,  all  these  I  flung  forth  against 
him;  and  I  doubt  not  that  by  this  time  his  hands  have 
been  stricken  with  palsy,  and  the  sight  has  gone  forth 
from  his  eyes.  But  as  to  my  ringlets,  even  now  they 
have  not  grown  to  their  wonted  length,  and  I  fear  me 
they  will  never  again  sprout  with  their  ancient  vigor, 
for  I  am  an  old  man,  and  the  marrow  in  my  bones  is 
dried  up,  and  my  sinews  are  brittle  like  stalks  of  straw. 


336  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

But  I  will  refrain  from  overmuch  lamentation;  for  it 
may  betide  that  this  missive  reaches  thee  on  a  Sabbath, 
and  it  would  be  a  sin  on  my  head  to  move  thy  heart  to 
sorrow  on  such  a  day.  Rather  will  I  go  on  to  narrate 
what  things  further  befell  me  ere  that  I  reached  my 
appointed  goal;  and  in  all  my  doings  I  followed  the 
admonishings  of  Moshke,  the  glazier. 

So  when  I  came  to  Hamburg,  which  was  the  place  of 
my  embarkation,  I  wended  my  steps  straightway  to  the 
ship;  and  as  I  was  setting  foot  on  the  gangway,  some 
one  tapped  me  on  the  shoulder,  and  said  a  quaint  thing. 

"  Friend,"  he  said,  "  thy  Ten  Commandments  are 
dangling  out  behind  thy  back."  And  when  I  looked 
round,  it  appeared  that  the  fringes  of  my  Four-corner 
Garment  were  overlapping  the  nape  of  my  neck.  And 
I  bestowed  them  in  their  proper  place,  laughing  much 
at  the  folly  and  ignorance  of  the  Gentile.  Then  1 
passed  on  into  the  hollow  of  the  ship,  and  they  showed 
me  a  place  where  I  was  to  abide  during  the  voyage;  it 
was  dark  and  squalid,  fitted  with  narrow  wooden  chests 
along  the  wall  that  looked  like  coffins:  and  I  spat  out  in 
deprecation  of  the  thought.  But  I  was  sorely  afraid, 
for,  as  thou  knowest,  this  was  my  first  adventure  by 
sea.  Presently  I  heard  a  loud  booming  sound,  which 
might  have  been  the  bellowing  of  sea-monsters;  and 
soon  after  the  ship  gathered  itself  up,  and  moved  with 
a  swinging  motion  from  side  to  side.  And  first  it 
swung  not  more  violently  than  thou  didst  rock  the 
cradle  of  our  daughter  Leah  when  she  was  yet  a 
suckling;  but  soon  it  staggered,  seemingly  going  two 
different  ways  at  one  time,  until  it  overleapt  its  balance, 
and  turned  round  and  round  upon  itself,  like  a  sleeper 


RABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  337 

who  is  tossed  by  evil  dreams  at  night,  so  that  its  floor 
ing  stood  uppermost.  And  then  I  sat  down  upon  my 
wallet,  for  my  bowels  heaved,  and  my  gall-bladder  crept 
up  into  my  throat.  And  I  will  give  thee  a  token  of 
the  feeling  that  came  over  me.  For  dost  thou  remem 
ber  how  thou  didst  go  with  the  other  folks  of  the  town 
to  witness  the  hanging  of  the  prisoners  that  were  taken 
in  the  time  of  the  rebellion;  and  how  there  was  a  spell 
upon  thine  eyes,  so  that  thou  couldst  not  turn  them 
away  from  the  sight  till  the  hanging  was  finished,  and 
the  six  of  them  swung  dead  and  stark?  And  then 
thou  didst  fall  to  the  ground  in  a  swoon,  and  for  three 
days  no  food  passed  thy  lips,  and  for  three  days  thou 
didst  vomit  and  retch,  till  I  thought  thou  wouldst  cast 
forth  thy  very  soul.  Of  such  a  sort  were  my  own  suf 
ferings  during  those  days;  and  when  I  was  reviving, 
and  began  to  feel  I  was  still  a  living  man,  on  the  fourth 
night  a  storm  arose  that  took  the  ship  in  its  strong 
arms,  and  flung  it  against  the  vault  of  heaven,  or  thrust 
it  into  the  caverns  of  the  deep.  And  in  my  great  fear 
I  took  my  Pentateuch,  and  opened  it,  and  upon  its 
pages  I  sprinkled  for  a  charm  of  the  clean  salt  whereof 
I  had  taken  with  me  a  supply,  so  that  I  might  not 
purchase  of  the  Gentile,  and  I  repeated  psalms  in  mul 
titude,  and  especially  that  which  says:  "They  that  go 
down  in  ships  to  the  great  waters,  see  the  wonders  of 
the  Lord."  For  what  death  is  there  so  horrible  as  to 
be  devoured  by  the  leviathans  of  the  sea?  And  bitterly 
I  regretted  my  improvidence  in  that  I  had  not  stocked 
myself  with  a  sack  of  Sacred  Earth  that  is  dug  from 
the  soil  of  Palestine.  For  how  else  was  I  to  find  my 
way  into  the  land  of  Canaan,  if  so  it  pleased  God  to  put 


338  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

an  end  to  my  days?  But  it  seemed  that  on  the  Day  of 
Atonement  my  name  had  not  been  blotted  out  from 
the  Book  of  Life,  so  that  I  survived;  for  after  a  while 
.the  sea  made  its  peace  with  God,  and  the  lightnings 
were  quenched,  and  the  chariots  of  the  thunder  were 
again  fastened  to  their  staples.  However,  nothing 
further  betided  till  we  ran  into  harbor;  but  I  vow  upon 
my  life  and  health,  not  less  glad  was  I  to  leave  the 
hollow  of  that  ship  than  was  Jonah,  when  the  whalefish 
spat  him  forth,  and  he  went  to  make  prophecy  unto  the 
people  of  Nineveh. 

Yet  it  concerned  me  somewhat  to  note  that  the  day 
of  my  arrival  was  the  second  of  the  week,  even  the  day 
whereon  our  sages  say  God  created  the  Gehennom  and 
Lilith  and  all  the  children  of  evil;  and  perchance  it  may 
be  for  that  cause  that  my  errand  has  not  sped  according 
to  my  desire.  And  having  gone  on  land,  I  was  even 
like  unto  the  idols  of  the  heathen,  for  I  had  eyes  and 
saw  not,  and  ears  and  heard  not;  and  I  was  stricken  as 
to  the  understanding  of  all  things  around  me.  But  I 
chanced  against  a  man  of  our  own  race  and  tongue, 
who  proffered  me  his  guidance  unto  the  place  of  my 
destination.  But  he  premised  that  it  was  necessary  I 
should  give  him  a  piece  of  gold  the  equivalent  of  ten 
roubles,  not  for  his  own  especial  use  and  benefit,  but 
because  he  affirmed  it  was  the  custom  of  strangers  that 
arrived  to  bestow  that  sum  upon  the  institutions  for 
the  tending  of  the  sick  and  the  study  of  the  Sacred 
Writ.  And  I  gave  it,  though  with  much  secret  doubt- 
ings  of  heart,  and  he  conducted  me  faithfully.  But 
upon  inquiry  I  learned  that  there  was  no  such  custom, 
and  that  the  man  had  deceived  me.  Now  if  he  be  in 


KABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  339 

good  earnest  a  Student  of  the  Law,  I  grudge  him  not 
the  money;  but  if  he  be  not,  may  it  go  towards  the 
healing  of  dread  sickness  in  his  household. 

So  then  I  came  to  Leyb  Tchariner,  the  aforesaid,  the 
kinsman;  and  beneath  his  roof  I  tarried  two  days  and 
two  nights,  until  the  stiffness  had  departed  from  out 
my  limbs,  and  I  was  rested.  Then  he  went  out,  and 
on  my  behalf  he  hired  a  place  of  abode;  for  he  himself 
was  greatly  straitened  as  to  room,  dwelling  as  he  did 
in  three  chambers  with  his  wife  and  four  sons  and  three 
daughters.  And  here  I  may  note  what  thou  wilt  appre 
hend  with  wonder,  even  as  I  marvelled  at  the  thing. 
For  he  has  turned  himself,  for  the  earning  of  his  bread, 
unto  the  making  of  shoes  and  other  footgear,  he  that 
in  his  native  country  followed  the  calling  of  corn  and 
wheat  broker.  But  lest  thou  should  st  feel  grieved 
thereat,  be  it  known  to  thee  herewith  that  in  this 
country  the  constructing  of  shoes  and  garments  is  not 
deemed  an  indignity,  as  it  is  with  us,  but  that  the 
makers  thereof  are  not  considered  inferior  to  the  scribes 
of  books  or  to  the  keepers  of  taverns;  and  many  of 
them,  and  justly  so,  are  advanced  to  posts  of  high 
honor  in  the  community.  And  further  I  have  here 
encountered  sundry  of  my  countrymen  whom  I  never 
thought  to  set  eyes  upon  before  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead;  chiefly  there  was  Chayim,  the  bellows-maker 
and  tinker,  who,  as  thou  well  knowest,  disappeared 
from  our  township  during  the  days  that  followed  the 
conclusion  of  the  Postanye,  the  revolution,  to  wit. 
And  we  all  thought  that  he  had  been  conveyed  to 
Siberia,  and  had  there  died  by  reason  of  his  sufferings. 
And  the  manner  of  his  escape  was  as  a  miracle  of  God; 


340  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

for  he  was  just  about  to  issue  from  his  house,  having 
it  in  his  heart  to  flee  the  country  because  of  the  sus 
picion  attaching  to  him,  when,  on  the  last  step  of  his 
threshold,  there  suddenly  came  into  his  path  two  emis 
saries  of  police.  And  one  of  them  asked:  "Art  thou 
Chayim  Drontovar?  "  for  they  knew  him  not  by  person. 
And  then  God  breathed  cunning  and  wisdom  into  his 
head  so  that  he  made  reply: "  No,  I  am  not  he;  but  I 
left  him  this  instant  at  his  midday  meal  with  his 
family,  and  he  dwells  on  the  third  flooring."  And  then 
they  detained  him  no  longer,  and  he  lay  hidden  all 
during  the  day  in  a  heap  of  refuse,  and  at  night  he 
escaped,  and  came  to  this  land.  And  his  wife  Mariam, 
even  she  who  was  flogged  naked  in  the  market-place 
to  make  her  divulge  her  husband's  secret  resort,  came 
at  his  bidding  to  this  country,  after  she  had  recovered 
from  the  effect  of  the  scourging;  but  she  has  now 
departed  this  life,  and  the  day  whereon  I  met  Chayim 
was  the  second  anniversary  of  her  death.  And  of  one 
other  I  shall  give  thee  tidings,  though  he  is  not  worthy 
that  his  name  be  mentioned  by  mouths  that  utter  words 
of  righteousness;  I  speak  of  Lutke,  the  glutton,  as  he 
was  called.  I  doubt  not  thou  rememberest  him,  a  wild, 
dissolute  fellow  that  had  no  shame  in  the  sight  of  God 
or  man;  and  a  marvel  it  is  that  because  of  his  deeds  of 
evil  and  darkness  the  sun  became  not  blotted  out  in  the 
heavens.  And  finally,  having  filled  full  the  measure 
of  iniquity,  and  being  in  great  straits  for  money,  he 
went  to  the  leader  of  the  Attrat,  the  reconnoiterers 
that  made  search  in  the  forests  for  the  insurgents 
hidden  there, — for  this,  too,  happened  in  the  time  of 
the  rebellion, — and  offered  upon  payment  to  show  a 


EABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  341 

place  where  was  concealed  great  store  of  powder  and 
shot  and  much  accoutrement.  And  having  received 
faithful  promises  of  reward,  he  betrayed  the  spot,  and 
according  to  his  word  was  found  much  ammunition, 
which  was  carted  away  to  Wratislavik,  so  that  the  insur 
gents  were  crippled  of  supplies,  and  could  not  carry  on 
the  war  in  that  part  of  the  country.  And  he,  to  escape 
their  wrath, — for  they  would  have  flayed  him  alive, — 
went  back  with  the  Attrat,  and  sojourned  among  the 
soldiers;  and  thy  sister's  daughter  has  told  me  how 
she  saw  him  go  past  her  door  unto  the  soldiers'  mess 
and  fill  his  bucket  at  the  common  caldron  with  the 
rest.  And  one  day  he  vanished;  but  the  manner  of 
my  encountering  him  I  shall  relate  anon. 

In  this  place  I  shall  make  utterance  of  certain  things 
that  have  come  within  my  observation,  and  have  filled 
my  heart  with  sorrow.  For  the  people  of  our  race 
dwelling  in  this  country  are  for  the  most  part  of  them 
by  no  means  God-fearing.  Rather  do  they  offend 
greatly  against  tHe  ordinances  of  our  wise  men.  Thus 
it  is  that  few  of  the  women,  though  they  be  mothers 
of  many  children,  wear  the  periwig  that  is  the  sign  of 
matronhood;  so  that  they  walk  abroad  with  outstretched 
necks  and  great  luxuriance  of  hair-growth.  And,  again, 
the  young  men,  and  many  of  the  elder,  too,  shave  the 
hair  of  the  face,  ancl  go  about  smooth  like  hounds  that 
suffer  with  mange.  Furthermore  do  they  shamelessly 
carry  rain-screens  upon  Sabbaths  and  festivals,  though 
this  is  a  city  that  has  no  fortifications,  but  lies  open  to 
the  country  upon  all  four  sides.  But  more  than  this: 
they  wear  garments  wherein  wool  and  cotton  are  inter 
mingled — a  heinous  sin,  and  one  for  which  there  is  no 


342  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

forgiveness.  Yet  this  is  not  all;  for  I  have  heard  of  an 
abomination  that  is  greater  than  the  sum  and  aggregate 
of  all  the  others.  There  is  here  a  House  of  Prayer, 
rather  should  I  call  it  a  House  of  Blasphemy,  where 
youths  and  maidens  are  gathered  indiscriminately  for 
the  chanting  of  hymns  on  the  Sabbath,  and  where  a 
man  makes  music  by  breathing  into  long  tubes  of 
iron,  and  the  destruction  of  our  Sacred  City  is  in  no 
wise  remembered  amongst  these  people.  And  having 
been  made  aware  of  these  things,  straightway  I 
eschewed  also  the  drinking  of  milk,  for  in  the  eating  of 
flesh  I  have  not  indulged  since  I  left  home.  For  in  a 
land  where  such  desecration  is  tolerated,  no  man  is  to 
be  trusted  for  the  purity  and  fitness  of  food.  And  ever 
since  I  have  subsisted  on  the  produce  of  the  soil  and 
of  trees  and  upon  the  meat  of  fish  roasted  in  oil,  ac 
cording  to  the  manner  and  custom  of  the  country. 

And  now  touching  the  matter  of  the  dowry.  And 
upon  this  point  I  bear  no  grudge  against  him  whom  we 
have  destined  for  our  daughter's  hand,  though  he 
has  rated  himself  highly,  even  at  the  worth  and  value 
of  five  hundred  roubles  to  be  given  for  a  marriage- 
portion.  For  he  is  a  goodly  youth,  and  master  of  a 
handicraft;  nor  shall  it  be  with  us  as  it  is  with  many, 
to  whom  their  son-in-law  is  as  a  yoke  about  the  neck, 
since  they  must  give  him  food  and  raiment  and  suste 
nance  until  he  has  learned  to  deal  out  his  soup  with 
his  own  ladle.  And  further — for  must  it  not  be  said? 
— our  daughter  is  not  like  other  maidens,  being  stricken 
with  a  limp  in  her  tongue,  so  that  her  words  come 
haltingly,  and  stumble  one  against  the  other.  And 
these  things  need  the  sheen  of  money  to  cast  a  glamour 


EABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  343 

over  the  eyes  of  suitors.  For  that  she  can  repeat  by 
heart  three  portions  of  Mishnah — what  is  it?  It  goes 
for  nought  in  these  ungodly  days.  And  as  for  the 
tribulations  that  I  have  undergone,  or  that  are  in  store 
for  me  on  this  matter,  I  make  light  of  them;  may  they 
be  taken  for  expiation  of  my  transgressions,  and  may 
they  turn  aside  untoward  punishment.  Besides,  is  it 
not  right  and  fitting  that  in  all  joyous  occasion  there 
should  be  some  tinge  of  bitterness  to  make  us  mindful 
that  we  are  exiles,  and  abide  in  the  midst  of  our  adver 
saries? 

First,  then,  I  had  recourse  unto  our  townsmen  that 
dwell  in  this  city.  And  of  them  there  is  no  inconsid 
erable  number,  nor,  indeed,  is  there  a  region  under  the 
sun  whereof  one  or  two  inhabitants  are  not  congre 
gated  here — nay,  not  excepting  Sheol  and  Tophet,  for 
I  have  here  seen  stalking  about  devils  blacker  than 
ebony  as  to  their  skins  and  with  many  little  horns  of 
wool  upon  their  heads;  but  their  tails  were  not  visible, 
for  the  law  of  the  land  permits  them  not  to  go  un 
clothed.  But  the  townsmen,  though  they  wished  me 
well  and  received  me  hospitably,  are  poor  men  with 
scarcely  a  sufficiency  of  bread,  nor  do  they  live  like 
God  in  Frenchland,  as  the  saying  is.  So  of  them  I 
could  expect  nothing.  Then,  acting  upon  their  advice, 
deeming  it  good,  I  went  a  different  road.  In  this  city 
there  are  men  of  our  race  whom  God  has  blessed  with 
riches  passing  the  computation  of  man;  they  are  said  to 
eat  from  golden  platters  and  to  cast  aside  a  garment 
after  they  have  worn  it  but  once.  Now  I  thought  it 
impossible  that  they  would  withhold  from  dispensing 
of  their  bounty  unto  me,  a  scholar  and  a  poet  from 
the  crown  of  my  head  unto  the  toes  of  my  feet.  So 


344  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

then  I  sat  me  down,  and  with  much  labor  and  applica 
tion  I  indited  epistles  unto  them,  setting  forth  their 
greatness  and  telling  them  of  my  urgent  necessity. 
And  the  manner  of  my  writing  was  such  as  no  man  on 
earth  has  attempted  before.  For  in  honor  of  the  first 
man  I  composed  an  acrostic  showing  the  initial  letters 
of  his  name  backward  and  forward,  and  with  the  end 
letters  I  dealt  likewise.  And  the  second  epistle  I 
wrote  in  the  Aramaic  tongue,  with  interspersions  of 
Chaldee;  and  yet  in  a  third  I  contrived  that  every 
seventh  word  should  contain  the  sum  total  of  the 
man's  name  reckoned  by  Gematrya.  And  various  other 
and  quaint  devices  of  word-play  I  designed.  And  my 
reason  for  this  was  such:  that  these  men,  coming  to 
gether  at  their  banquets  or  in  the  House  of  Learning, 
and  falling  upon  me  for  a  topic,  might  say  unto  one  an 
other:  "  Clearly  he  springs  not  from  the  people  of  the 
soil,  and  his  mind  lingers  not  among  the  commonplaces 
of  thought,  but  ranges  boldly  through  the  wildernesses 
and  untrodden  paths  of  conception;  he  is  a  man  whom 
we  must  reward  and  honor  for  the  honoring  of  our 
selves  and  the  congregation."  And  in  this  expecta 
tion  I  waited;  and  having  waited  for  the  space  of  a 
week,  I  grew  anxious  and  bewildered,  for  to  all  my 
missives  there  was  no  response.  And  I  pondered  many 
things,  not  knowing  what  to  conjecture.  Could  it  bo 
that  the  messengers,  whom  they  had  entrusted  with 
the  bearing  of  their  gift,  had  sequestered  the  money  for 
their  own  use,  defrauding  me  of  my  due  and  portion? 
But  Leyb  Tchariner  inclined  to  this  opinion:  that  my 
very  wisdom  had  been  my  undoing,  for  that  I  had  acted 
like  a  man  who  has  dug  a  well  of  more  than  common 


EABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  345 

depth  for  the  obtaining  of  more  copious  water;  but 
that  the  travellers  from  whom  I  expected  reward  for 
my  toil,  being  men  of  despatch  and  haste,  nor  having 
sufficient  length  of  chain  to  their  own  pitchers  and  dis 
daining  to  use  another's,  had  hurried  on  without  a 
second  glance.  And  perhaps  it  was  as  he  said;  and 
as  time  went  on,  and  I  heard  nothing,  I  lost  heart,  and 
set  my  thoughts  in  another  direction,  for  I  perceived 
that  my  affairs  were  going  the  crab's  walk,  that  is,  rear 
ward  and  not  forward. 

And  thereupon  I  bethought  myself  to  set  up  a  school 
for  the  teaching  of  our  sacred  tongue  and  for  the  in 
struction  of  youths  in  their  portion  of  Holy  Writ.  But 
it  proved  a  sore  burden  unto  me,  for  the  boys  were 
unruly  and  troublesome,  and  neither  were  they  atten 
tive  in  their  tasks  nor  in  the  payment  of  the  lesson- 
money.  And  it  chanced,  unfortunately,  that  most  of 
them  were  the  children  of  Littvaks,  and  spoke  a  dialect 
unlike  my  own,  which  is  Polish;  and  thus  they  said 
"  Sibboleth,"  and  what  should  be  "  hee  »  was  "  hoo  » 
in  their  mouths.  For  this  reason  I  was  a  mockery 
unto  them,  and  one  day  they  all  by  concert  brought 
certain  engines,  which  they  made  to  explode  about  my 
feet  with  sparks  of  fire  and  a  loud  reverberation.  And 
upon  that  I  fled  from  the  chamber,  nor  have  I  re 
turned  amongst  them  to  this  day,  for  fear  they  might 
do  me  some  bodily  hurt.  And  in  this  extremity  a  plan 
entered  into  my  head,  hazardous  in  the  accomplishing, 
but  yet  to  be  attempted.  I  have  spoken  before  of 
Lutke,  the  same  who  turned  informer;  and  it  was  in 
my  heart  to  seek  him,  and  reminding  him  of  sundry 
benefits  wherewith  I  had  benefited  him,  and  telling 


346  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

him  that  more  blessed  is  he  who  gives  than  he  who 
receives,  to  make  appeal  to  him  on  my  claim  of  clan 
ship.  But  when  I  told  my  project  unto  the  townsmen, 
they  laughed  in  derision:  "  What  ails  thee?  Ask  char 
ity  of  Lutke  ?  He  will  give — the  calves  which  his  oxen 
have  borne  him.  Why,  when  we  were  building  our 
synagogue  and  sent  to  him  to  make  contribution  to 
wards  the  outlay,  he  said  he  would  not  deny  us  his 
help,  but  that  he  would  give  according  to  the  deserts 
of  the  case.  And  on  the  following  day  there  arrived  a 
large  casket,  and  our  hearts  were  glad,  for  we  thought: 
surely  herein  is  some  scroll  of  the  Law,  or  some  em 
broidered  curtain  to  hang  before  the  Ark;  but  when  we 
opened  it,  lo  and  behold,  it  contained  three  mouldy 
bricks  and  a  block  of  worm-eaten  wood — curses  on  the 
blasphemer!  Rather  husband  thy  dignity,  and  go  not 
near  him,  lest  he  should  make  thee  to  wallow  in  the 
gutter  of  his  abuse." 

All  this  they  said  to  me,  but  I  did  not  heed  them, 
being  of  advice  that  he  would  give  ear  to  me  though 
he  had  flouted  the  others;  and  besides,  it  benefits  not 
a  poor  man  to  be  dainty  in  his  enterprises. 

So  then  I  took  a  little  boy  for  my  guide,  having 
ascertained  the  man's  abode.  For  who  knew  it  not? 
Had  they  not  all  gone  to  look  at  the  mansion  wherein 
he  dwelt,  and  to  marvel  why  in  this  world  the  sinner 
is  ever  preferred  to  the  righteous?  And  as  for  his 
wealth,  they  say  it  was  acquired  by  the  sale  of  cast-off 
clothing,  and  in  other  mysterious  ways.  Then,  having 
entrusted  our  bodies  to  the  afore-mentioned  contrivance 
that  flies  on  the  wings  of  fire  and  smoke,  we  were  con 
veyed  a  long  distance,  and  that — where  shall  the  mar- 


EABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  347 

vels  cease? — below  the  level  of  the  ground;  and  the 
texture  of  sulphurous  gloom  and  horror  through  which 
it  rushed  was  ripped  into  a  thousand  fluttering  shreds. 
And  only  at  given  intervals  did  it  rise  to  the  surface, 
so  that  our  vitals  might  not  swell  to  bursting  with  the 
noisome  vapors.  But  at  last  we  alighted,  and  came  to 
Lutke's  house,  and  I  passed  up  the  broad  stairs  of  stone; 
and  at  my  summons  straightway  the  doors  were  opened 
by  two  sons  of  Anak,  white-haired  and  abruptly-clad 
as  to  their  nether  garments.  And  they  stopped  and 
accosted  me.  But  their  words  were  to  me  as  the  bab 
blings  of  popinjays,  and  I  heeded  them  not,  crying 
with  the  full  girth  of  my  voice:  "Lutke!  Lutke! " 
And  at  the  sound  he  came  forth,  the  man  himself — 
for  I  knew  him  at  once,  by  the  indenting  of  the  under- 
lip  where  he  had  cleft  it  against  the  kerbstone  in  a 
drunken  mood,  and  thou  didst  bandage  it  up  with  thine 
own  hand.  Then  he  looked  at  me,  with  an  eye  void 
of  understanding,  and  said  certain  words  to  his  hire 
lings.  And  then — as  I  live,  I  tell  thee  no  falsehood — 
they  gripped  me  by  the  shoulder,  and  jostled  me,  and 
thrusting  me  forth  into  the  street,  they  shut  the  door 
with  great  violence.  And  so  may  the  gate  of  Garden 
Eden  be  closed  in  his  face — I  will  not  curse  him  over 
much,  for  are  not  all  Israel  brothers?  Then  it  bitterly 
repented  me  of  my  foolhardiness,  in  that  I  had  defied 
sager  counsel.  I  had  eaten  to  the  full  of  vexation  of 
soul,  and  my  eyes  were  downcast  with  shame;  for  the 
little  boy  had  witnessed  all,  standing  by  the  outer  gate, 
and  he  would  spread  the  tale — are  not  children's 
mouths  like  sieves,  through  which  their  tongues  trickle 
uncontainedly?  But  more  than  all,  upon  that  journey 


348  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

I  had  expended  one  silver  coin  and  two  large  pieces  of 
copper,  and  my  gain  therefrom  was  not  worth  the  tail 
of  a  rabid  dog. 

And  on  my  return  I  kept  steadfastly  to  my  chamber, 
lest  any  one  should  feast  his  eyes  on  my  humiliation. 
But  on  the  third  day  a  man,  whose  face  I  knew  not, 
came  to  me,  and  spoke  many  words  and  privily.  And 
the  import  thereof  was  that  for  several  years  there  had 
not  appeared  in  this  city  a  "  Good  Hebrew,"  and  that 
the  inhabitants,  at  least  those  that  belonged  to  our 
faith,  were  swayed  by  many  doubts  and  misgivings,  and 
that  there  was  much  confusion  in  their  households  and 
private  affairs,  and  there  was  no  one  to  give  them 
counsel  or  explain  away  their  anxieties;  that  I,  being 
versed  in  Cabbalistic  lore,  and  having  penetrated  deeply 
into  the  mysteries  of  heaven  and  earth,  might  fitly  take 
such  office  upon  me;  and  that  there  was  much  profit  in 
the  venture  both  for  me  and  for  him.  Now  the  plan 
seemed  good  in  my  eyes,  and  we  agreed.  And  he 
took  upon  himself  the  function  of  bedell  and  herald 
unto  me,  and  caused  it  to  go  abroad  that  there  had 
arrived  a  man  of  God,  and  all  who  were  harassed  by 
some  trouble  might  come,  and  he  would  salve  them. 
And  straightway  our  door  became  besieged  by  ques 
tioners.  And  Tyveles,  the  bedell,  stood  in  the  outer 
chamber,  and  wrote  the  tablets,  and  took  the  fee;  and 
such  as  brought  none  or  not  sufficient  he  drove  away, 
and  would  not  let  them  enter  the  inner  chamber  where 
I  sat  and  delivered  responses.  And  those  that  came 
were  chiefly  women — maidens,  past  their  first  youth, 
who  would  know  if  they  were  ever  fated  to  stand  be 
neath  the  marriage  canopy;  mothers  of  ill-conditioned 


EABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  349 

children,  seeking  a  remedy  for  the  curse;  and  lastly, 
matrons  of  long  standing  unto  whom  God  had  denied 
issue.  To  all  these  I  replied  according  to  the  judg 
ment  which  was  in  me.  And  this  continued  for  several 
days;  and  in  the  night  time  of  each  day  Tyveles  would 
give  me  my  share  of  the  payments.  But  though  I  had 
suspicion  that  he  gave  not  my  due  measure,  I  durst 
not  say  aught,  for  he  was  a  man  of  fierce  countenance 
and  uncouth  habits.  At  last,  however,  sinister  rumors 
arose,  and  one  day  three  men  of  accredited  worth  came 
and  testified  against  Tyveles,  how  that  he  was  an 
apostate,  and  had  forsworn  the  faith,  and  had  for  long 
years  consorted  with  the  Gentiles;  nor  could  Tyveles 
gainsay  the  accusers,  for  his  falsehood  lay  manifest. 
So  then  the  three  men  took  hold  of  him,  and  jostled 
him  from  the  chamber  with  blows  and  other  ill-natured 
treatment.  As  for  me,  I  took  upon  myself  a  fast  of 
three  days  to  expiate  the  pollution  of  contact  with  the 
man.  But  mark  how  the  evil  ever  beget  evil.  For 
certain  calumniators  rose  up  against  me,  saying  that  I 
had  had  foreknowledge  of  the  man's  misdoings  and 
yet  had  taken  him  to  my  bosom,  and  had  broken  bread 
with  him.  And  the  report  gained  credence,  and  thence 
forth  not  a  shadow  darkened  my  threshold;  even  the 
townsmen  looked  askance  and  mistrusted  me.  Thus 
was  I  left  to  go  my  own  way;  and  now  the  future  lies 
dark  before  me,  for  I  know  not  unto  which  thing  to 
betake  myself.  And  my  only  hope  is,  by  abiding  here 
until  the  Great  and  Holy  Days,  which  is  yet  two  gath 
erings  of  the  moon,  to  be  chosen  by  one  of  the  congre 
gations  to  recite  the  Law  and  hold  solemn  discourse 
for  the  cleansing  of  their  sins,  for  which  they  will 


350  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

make  me  remuneration  and  offer  votive  offerings  on  my 
behalf.  And  with  this  money  I  shall  return  to  my 
country,  and  if  it  be  not  of  the  covenanted  amount, 
verily  our  son-in-law  that  is  to  bo  must  needs  make  an 
abatement  thereon,  if  he  have  set  his  heart  upon  our 
daughter  in  good  sooth. 

So  then  let  this  suffice  thee  for  an  account  of  me, 
and  fear  not,  for  the  Lord  forsakes  not  those  who  keep 
His  ordinances.  And  these  few  precepts  would  I  have 
thee  lay  to  heart  in  the  ordering,  of  our  household.  As 
for  the  flesh  which  is  my  perquisite  from  the  congre 
gation,  let  it  go  towards  the  sustaining  of  thy  life,  so 
that  neither  thou  nor  our  daughter  may  suffer  hunger 
in  the  interval.  But  as  for  the  suet  that  goes  with 
the  portion,  let  it  be  melted  and  hawked  about  the 
town  for  sale,  and  all  that  accrues  therefrom  let  it  be 
laid  by  for  the  marriage.  And  if  there  be  difficulty  in 
the  congealing  of  the  fat,  which  might  betide  in  this 
hot  season,  I  would  counsel  thee  to  dig  holes  in  the 
ground  and  therein  to  bestow  it  in  covered  pans;  for 
it  will  meet  with  readier  sale  if  it  be  hard  and  brittle. 
And  the  spot  fittest  for  the  bestowing  methinks  will  be 
to  the  north  side  of  our  courtyard,  where  stands  the 
great  bay-tree  that  wards  off  the  fierceness  of  the  sun 
by  its  branches.  And  furthermore,  in  the  feeding  of 
our  milch-goat,  see  that  thou  segregate  the  night 
shade  from  the  wholesome  herbs,  lest  it  die,  as  hap 
pened  with  the  other;  and  goat-skin  is  a  thing  of  small 
value,  scarcely  fetching  the  price  of  a  fur  collar  against 
the  winter.  .  .  . 

Glory  be  unto  the  Lord  of  Hosts!  Knew  I  not  that 
He  would  not  withdraw  His  right  hand  from  His 


EABBI  ELCHANAN'S  QUEST  351 

beloved?  This  very  instant  there  has  been  given  to 
me  thy  second  epistle,  which  tells  me  glad  tidings.  A 
thousand  roubles,  sayest  thou?  Ay,  ay!  my  heart  leaps 
with  joy,  and  my  voice  is  raised  in  psalmody  and  thanks 
giving.  Surely  it  was  God's  own  finger  that  turned 
the  wheel  of  the  lottery  so  that  it  stopped  at  the  num 
ber  of  our  ticket.  So  then  I  shall  despatch  my  affairs 
in  this  city,  which  are  not  considerable,  and  do  thou 
prepare  for  my  home-coming.  For  I  shall  follow  close 
upon  the  heels  and  haunches  of  this  missive. 


"WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE" 

While  the  heavens  stand  firm,  to  the  world's  last  term 
Shall  be  the  three  things  that  were  from  the  start : 

The  Word  of  God,  His  chastening  rod, 

And  the  suffering-strength  of  a  woman's  heart. 

Sayings  of  the  Fathers  (interpolated). 

"AND  them  weepest  because  them  hast  lost  a  child 
that  was  not  even  yet  a  weanling?  And  therefore 
thou  walkest  here  in  solitude  by  the  edge  of  the  lake, 
wringing  thy  hands  and  crying  aloud  in  the  bitterness 
of  thy  heart?  Ah,  blessed  are  the  young  in  their 
strength !  Seest  thou  not  how  thou  art  blessed  in  be 
ing  strong  to  wash  the  sorrow  from  thy  soul  through 
the  flood-gates  of  the  eyes?  But  in  us  that  are  old 
the  sluices  are  weary  with  flowing,  and,  therefore,  the 
grief  remains  unmoved,  and  lies  heavy  as  a  stone;  and 
by  reason  of  its  endurance  it  becomes  as  part  and 
parcel  of  our  lives,  so  that  we  would  not  get  rid  of  it, 
even  if  we  could.  Therefore  I  begrudge  thee  not 
thy  tears;  but  lest  thou  shouldst  arraign  Heaven,  and 
thereby  bring  sin  upon  thy  head,  I  would  have  thee 
remember  that  whomsoever  God  loves  He  chastises. 
And  me  He  has  loved  very  much.  Have  I  not  lived 
to  the  age  of  sixty, — and  I  know  not  how  much  over, — 
and  have  I  not  been  stricken  very  hard?  One  child 
thou  didst  lose,  and  one  that  had  not  learned  to  bite 
with  its  teeth?  But  I  have  lost  four  that  were  long 
past  the  pitfalls  of  infancy,  and  were  like  to  grow  up 
as  cedars  of  Lebanon.  But  the  great  woodcutter, 


" WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE"      353 

which  is  the  Angel  of  Death,  cut  them  down,  two  of 
them  singly  and  two  of  them  at  one  stroke;  for  at  that 
time  he  was  in  great  haste,  and  worked  busily  with 
his  hands.  So  while  we  sit  here  in  the  cool  of  the 
evening,  let  me  tell  thee  the  tale  of  my  four  children; 
but  do  thou,  my  daughter,  on  no  account  remit  thy 
weeping. 

"  One  son  I  had,  and  his  name  was  Isaac — what  am 
I  saying? — nay,  it  was  Benjamin,  of  whom  I  must  tell 
thee  first.  He  had  grown  to  be  thirteen,  and  already 
I  was  casting  about  my  eyes  among  the  maidens  of 
the  place  to  choose  him  a  wife.  Verily,  he  was  a  lad 
who  might  be  a  joy  to  his  mother,  and  right  willingly 
did  he  take  upon  himself  the  burdens  of  the  house 
hold  ;  for  his  father  had  gone  betimes  to  prepare  places 
for  us  all  in  Paradise.  And  this  was  the  period  of  the 
Cantonists.  What,  thou  knowest  not  of  the  Canton- 
ists?  Ah!  I  forgot  that  thou  comest  from  afar,  even 
from  across  the  frontier,  and  the  tale  of  them  has  not 
reached  thy  ears.  Nor,  indeed,  is  it  fit  for  the  ears 
of  women,  for  it  is  a  tale  of  darkness  and  misery  and 
the  rending  of  hearts.  But  for  the  purpose  in  hand 
it  must  needs  be  told  thee  at  length  and  with  a  full 
mouth. 

"  It  was  in  the  time  when  Nicolai  ruled  over  the 
land,  and  his  councillors  put  an  evil  thought  into  his 
mind,  like  the  thought  of  Pharaoh  when  he  set  his 
heart  on  the  harassing  of  the  children  of  Israel.  And 
was  there  not  sufficient  of  tribulation  before?  God 
knows  all  things,  and  whom  He  loves  He  chastises. 
And  this,  then,  was  the  evil  of  the  matter  of  the 
Cantonists.  For  the  heads  of  the  provinces  and  the 


354  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

governors  of  the  towns  and  the  mayors  of  the  villages 
looked  with  jealous  eyes  on  our  people,  how  their  off 
spring  waxed  great  by  the  blessing  of  God  unto 
Abraham.  And  therefore  they  said  craftily  to  one 
another: 

" '  Let  us  lay  hands  on  the  little  children,  which  are 
the  roots  of  a  nation,  growing  into  and  strengthening 
the  bulk  of  the  trunk/ 

"  And  then  there  was  issued  an  edict  which  provided 
that  youngsters  ranging  from  the  age  of  eight  to  fif 
teen,  which  is  implied  in  the  meaning  of  the  word — 
since  thou  knowest  not  the  language — should  be  taken 
from  the  homesteads  of  their  birth  and  scattered  about 
the  country. 

"Now  this  was  the  method  of  the  taking.  Over 
each  village  there  was  set  a  warden,  and  chiefly  he 
was  a  man  of  our  own  faith,  for  he  had  most  cog 
nizance  of  the  families  of  his  brethren.  And  from 
this  warden  it  was  required  that  when  called  upon  he 
should  furnish  boys  from  the  children  of  the  congre 
gation  to  the  number  that  was  named.  At  first  the 
people  understood  not  this  plague  that  had  come  upon 
them;  but  when  presently  one  child  was  kidnapped, 
and  then  another,  and  the  calamity  spread  abroad, 
then,  indeed,  there  rose  a  wail  of  sorrow  that  might  have 
shook  the  gates  of  heaven.  But  the  heavens  are 
planted  upon  firm  foundation,  and  therefore  they  did 
not  fall  and  crush  the  heads  of  the  evil-doers.  And 
mostly  there  suffered  the  poverty-stricken,  for  they 
could  give  no  gifts  to  make  propitious  to  them  the 
hearts  of  those  that  held  this  matter  in  hand;  and 
so  when  a  rich  man's  son  was  named  for  a  victim,  his 


«  WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE  "      355 

father  would  go  and  prevail  by  bribery,  so  that  there 
was  a  substitute.  And  surely  there  must  be  some 
great  dispensing  of  God's  favor  upon  this  generation, 
that  their  eyes  behold  not  what  ours  saw  in  those 
days.  For  our  village  lay  full  in  the  route  of  the 
children's  journey;  and  they  came  in  bodies  of  hun 
dred,  with  the  riders  at  their  side  and  in  their  back, 
and  the  riders  bore  kantchouks  in  their  hands  that  lay 
not  idle.  And  through  each  rank  there  ran  a  leathern 
thong  for  a  tether,  fastened  to  the  sleeve  of  each, 
lest  at  dark  of  night  any  should  escape.  For  they 
marched  day  and  night,  huddled  in  their  long  man 
tles  of  raw  hide  that  trailed  over  their  feet,  and  made 
them  to  stumble;  and  whenever  they  slept,  it  was  by 
the  roadside  or  in  the  ditches,  so  that  their  garments 
were  caked  with  muddy  slime,  unless  the  season  was 
frosty  and  the  ground  stiff  and  unyielding.  But  from 
every  hundred  that  went  forth  barely  two  or  three 
returned;  and  that  was  because  their  hands  and  feet 
were  bitten  useless  with  the  cold,  and  their  hearing  was 
numbed  so  that  they  heard  not.  As  for  the  rest,  this 
was  the  fate  that  befell  them.  They  were  penned  up 
like  cattle  in  stables,  until  creeping  sores  and  diseases 
fastened  upon  them  from  want  of  food  and  storing 
room.  Now  those  for  whom  there  was  hope  of  recov 
ery,  they  were  given  to  the  peasants  for  the  tending 
of  their  swine,  and  the  yoke  was  laid  upon  them  to 
draw  furrows  like  oxen;  and  twelve  of  them  went  to 
one  ox.  But  as  for  those  that  were  rotten  to  the  core 
and  in  whom  the  cancers  had  eaten  the  flesh  to  the 
bone,  for  these  were  built  large  wooden  sheds,  and  an 
opiate  was  mixed  in  their  food.  And  at  night,  when 


356  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

they  slept,  there  were  lighted  great  trusses  of  wet 
straw,  whereof  the  fumes  penetrated  the  chinks,  and 
during  their  sleep  was  their  innocent  life  choked  out 
of  them. — What,  thou  dost  not  believe?  See,  I  am. 
near  to  the  end  of  my  days,  and  what  would  I  gain  by 
accusing  my  fellow-creatures  idly?  But  these  things 
happened  as  I  have  said,  nor  did  I  see  a  windmill 
where  there  was  but  a  cow;  rather  have  I  been  nig 
gardly  in  my  setting  forth,  for  there  are  many  to 
whom  the  memory  of  this  still  comes  as  a  nightmare 
in  the  broad  of  the  day.  And  each  time  when  a  troop 
had  passed  through,  the  parents  would  look  at  each 
other  with  leaden  eyes,  and  turn  their  faces  from  their 
children;  but  in  those  days  many  a  beard  of  brown 
whitened  into  snow  over  night.  Such,  then,  is  the  story 
of  the  Cantonists,  and  I  had  a  son  Benjamin. 
"  Now,  thus  far  I  had  escaped  the  visitation.  And 
I  knew  not  to  what  to  ascribe  my  good  fortune,  unless 
it  was  because  of  my  sister,  who  had  now  been  a  faith 
ful  servant  for  twelve  years  at  the  house  of  the 
Davoustchik,  which  is  the  Warden.  And  seemingly 
at  her  entreaty  my  son  Benjamin  had  remained  ex 
empt.  But  the  time  came  when  for  the  greater  part  the 
available  youngsters  had  been  despatched,  and  there 
were  left  behind  only  the  children  of  the  wealthy,  and 
the  children  of  the  Warden  and  of  his  kinsfolk,  and 
the  child  that  was  mine,  even  my  son  Benjamin. 

"  And  one  night  my  sister  came  bringing  me  word 
that  there  was  at  last  no  thrusting  off  the  impending 
doom,  for  that  the  kidnappers  were  ordered  to  seize 
my  son  Benjamin  on  the  morrow.  Yet,  though  the 
dismay  was  great  in  my  heart,  I  did  not  fold  my  arms 


"  WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE  "      357 

idly,  making  no  attempt  to  wrestle  with  fate.  For 
of  furtively  slipping  away  there  was  no  question,  since 
the  issues  of  the  place  were  watched;  but  in  my  head 
there  had  been  ripening  a  plan  against  the  emergency. 
Therefore  at  dead  of  night  I  awoke  my  son, — for  he 
slept  soundly  in  ignorance  of  the  danger, — and  told  him 
what  there  was  to  be  done.  And  the  boy  looked  up 
at  me  wildly,  and  said: 

" '  Mother  dear,  I  am  afraid/ 

"  And  then  I  urged  him  again,  saying  that  there 
was  no  other  outlet  from  the  disaster,  and  that  all 
must  be  staked  on  this  throw.  Thus  we  sat  during 
the  night,  and  his  arms  clung  about  my  neck,  and  there 
was  a  trembling  through  all  his  body.  But  towards 
the  morning  he  grew  calmer,  and  at  last  he  said: 

" '  Mother  dear,  if  this  must  be  done,  then  I  shall 
not  resist,  for  I  cannot  bear  to  see  thy  grief;  but  I 
am  afraid,  afraid  unto  death/ 

"  And  then  in  all  haste  I  took  a  linen  sheet  from 
my  couch,  and  placed  two  chairs  for  a  trestle,  and 
laying  my  son  Benjamin  thereon,  I  covered  him  with 
the  sheet;  and  further,  I  lit  two  candles,  and  set  them 
on  the  floor  near  his  head.  So  then  we  waited;  and 
after  some  time  of  waiting  I  heard  the  kidnappers 
outside,  and  rushing  to  the  door  I  flung  it  open  with 
a  loud  cry. 

"'You  have  come  too  late — my  son  Benjamin  died 
at  the  rising  of  the  sun;  look  where  I  have  laid  him 
out  for  burial/ 

"  And  one  of  the  men — there  were  two — said  accord 
ing  to  the  formula,  '  Blessed  is  He  whose  judgment  is 
justice/  And  then  he  shouldered  past  me,  for  I  dared 


358  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

not  prevent  him,  and  strode  up  to  the  chairs,  and  lifted 
a  corner  of  the  sheet;  and  turning  to  the  other  he 
said,  '  She  speaks  truth ;  we  have  come  too  late — he  is 
dead/ 

"  Then  he  passed  out,  and  on  the  threshold  I  caught 
his  hand,  and  quickly  pressed  therein  a  silver  coin,  for 
that  he  had  borne  me  out,  and  had  saved  my  son 
Benjamin.  And  the  man  looked  at  me  with  big  eyes 
and  said  nothing.  And  then  I  watched  them  passing 
down  the  street,  giving  praise  to  God  for  my  deliver 
ance,  and  thinking  quickly  that  I  should  have  an 
empty  coffin  taken  from  my  house,  and  conceal  my  son 
Benjamin  in  his  chamber  till  I  might  smuggle  him 
away  into  safety.  And  at  last,  when  the  men  were 
out  of  sight,  I  flew  to  the  boy,  and  snatched  off  the 
covering  and  called  him;  but  he  slept  on,  worn  out 
with  the  watching  of  the  night.  And  then  I  shook 
him,  and  kissed  him  on  the  mouth — and  at  that  his 
jaw  fell,  and  I  saw  what  I  saw.  And  the  coffin  that 
went  from  my  house  was  not  empty.  Aye,  blessed  be 
He  whose  judgment  is  justice.  But  what  is  this?  I 
charged  thee  to  weep,  and  yet  thy  tears  come  less 
plentiful  for  thy  child  that  was  not  even  a  weanling. 

"  And  now  let  me  tell  thee  of  my  daughter  Esther, 
who  went  by  the  name  of  Hadassah,  the  myrtle,  be 
cause  her  breath  was  a  fragrance,  and  the  bloom  lay 
on  her  face  summer  and  winter;  and  her  full  tale  of 
these  was  fifteen.  And  to  all  her  lovers  who  asked 
her  in  marriage  she  gave  one  answer :  '  I  shall  not  go 
from  under  my  mother's  roof;  for  since  my  brother 
Benjamin  died  there  is  no  one  to  bring  grist  to  the 
mill,  so  that  she  and  the  two  little  ones ' — meaning  the 


"WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE"      359 

i 

two  youngest,  who  were  twin — 'may  not  go  hunger 
ing/ 

"  Now  the  manner  of  our  occupation  was  the  grow 
ing  of  herbs  and  vegetables,  which  she  went  to  sell 
in  the  houses  of  the  town.  But  there  was  none  that 
paid  with  more  liberal  hand  than  the  Galach,  I  say 
the  village  priest,  an  old  man  and  pious  and  walking 
in  the  fear  of  God.  And  about  this  time  he  died, 
and  there  was  put  in  his  place  a  young  man,  a  wolf 
in  sheep's  clothing,  who  wrought  evil  things  in  secrecy. 
And  the  third  time  my  daughter  went  to  his  house  she 
returned  with  flaming  cheeks : 

" ( Mother,  the  Galach  has  reminded  me  that  I  am 
a  woman  grown/  And  thereafter  it  was  I  who  carried 
him  the  produce  of  our  field.  And  often  he  made 
inquiry  after  my  daughter  with  feigned  kindliness, 
though  I  knew  it  was  with  no  good  purpose;  nor  was 
there  once  that  he  passed  my  house  without  spying 
into  the  doorway.  And  one  day  he  entered,  asking 
me,  e  Have  you  perchance  seen  a  spaniel  of  mine  that 
has  gone  astray  ? '  And  just  then  my  daughter  came 
in,  and  he  said  further: 

" '  Behold,  I  went  out  to  seek  a  hound,  and  instead 
I  have  found  a  Eose  of  Sharon/ 

"And  thereon  she  answered  rashly  and  without  wis 
dom: 

" '  The  thing  that  you  find  had  liefer  be  a  hound 
than  a  Rose  of  Sharon/ 

"  And  he  bit  his  lip,  and,  looking  her  full  in  the 
face,  he  said,  '  So  even  the  Roses  of  Sharon  have  thorns 
that  sting?  Yet  none  the  less  are  they  desirable  for 
culling/  And  so  he  continued  to  harp  on  the  word 
in  terms  of  insult. 


360  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

t 

"  And  that  was  not  the  only  time,  for  after  that 
he  came  often  to  the  house,  and  I  had  not  the  courage 
to  gainsay  him  entrance;  and  further,  I  besought 
Esther,  if  she  could  not  hie  from  the  chamber  in  time, 
to  show  him  courtesy  and  meet  cunning  with  cunning. 
But  what  could  two  women  avail  against  him  who 
wrought  by  the  aid  of  Satan  ?  And  when  my  daughter 
disappeared,  just  as  a  stone  is  dropped  into  a  well, 
even  then  he  came  and  asked  for  her  presence;  and 
when  I  told  him  she  was  not,  he  laughed  at  me  in  my 
distraction,  and  said: 

"'You  have  hidden  her  for  fear  of  me,  and  that 
is  unkind  of  you,  for  I  am  a  man  of  God,  and  would 
do  wrong  unto  no  living  thing/ 

"  And  he  said  it  so  speciously  that  for  long  time  I 
was  swayed  by  doubt  whether  his  ignorance  was  feigned 
or  true,  in  the  meantime  making  diligent  inquiry  in 
the  neighborhood,  and  enjoining  the  fishers  to  give 
heed  when  they  dragged  the  river  for  fish.  And  the 
time  passed  on  without  tidings. 

"  But  after  some  weeks  the  priest  came  to  me  say 
ing,  '  You  did  right  to  bewail  your  daughter.  I  have 
this  day  come  from  Warsaw,  and  there  I  have  seen  the 
Rose  of  Sharon  trailing  in  the  mud  of  the  gutters,  be 
neath  the  light  of  the  lanterns;  and  her  name  is  a 
byword  in  every  tavern  for  ten  miles  around/ 

"  And  from  that  I  knew  that  he  lied,  for  at  Warsaw, 
in  the  old  cemetery,  her  father  lies  buried,  and  she 
would  not  dare  to  do  evil  in  a  place  where  his  soul 
could  lay  its  finger  on  her  as  she  passed.  And,  more 
over,  I  knew  now  that  the  priest  had  a  hand  in  her 
vanishing. 


"  WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE  "      361 

"  So  I  bided  my  time,  and  one  day,  having  watched 
him  depart  on  his  conveyance,  I  went  to  his  house, 
there  to  converse  with  the  old  woman  who  tended  his 
kitchen,  and  I  took  with  me  a  slice  of  honey-cake  and 
a  bottle  of  raisin  wine  in  strong  fermentation. 

" '  There,  Katrinka/  I  said,  '  I  have  brought  thee 
a  gift  that  will  please  thee — the  cake  is  soft  and  needs 
no  teeth-grinding,  and  the  wine  will  run  like  fire 
through  thy  body/  So  then  we  sat  talking,  and  I 
plied  her  cautiously  with  questions;  and  at  last  the 
wine  loosed  her  tongue,  and  she  spoke.  '  Aye,  aye,'  she 
said,  '  it  is  a  dreary  life  and  solitary  I  lead  here  since 
the  old  priest  died,  for  my  new  master  has  much 
business  abroad,  and  is  no  stay-at-home;  but  latterly 
he  goes  often  to  the  convent  of  Tchenstochov,  doing 
good  service  to  a  novice,  and  curing  her  of  the  devil 
that  is  strong  within  her/ 

"  And  then  I  knew  where  I  had  to  seek  for  my 
daughter;  and  having  awaited  the  priest's  return,  and 
also  having  bestowed  my  two  other  children  with  an 
affinity  of  mine,  I  set  out  for  the  convent,  two  days' 
journey  on  foot,  for  perchance  God  would  show  me 
a  way  to  wrest  her  from  her  adversaries.  And  on  the 
way  I  stained  my  teeth  with  saffron  and  my  hands  and 
face  with  walnut,  so  that  I  might  go  unknown;  and 
further,  that  I  might  have  a  pretext  for  not  knowing 
their  language,  feigning  to  be  a  gipsy. 

"Now,  when  I  arrived,  which  was  in  the  morn 
ing  of  the  third  day,  I  straightway  hid  among  the 
bushes  that  hedged  the  courtyard  of  the  convent.  And 
not  long  after  there  came  out  two  she-priests,  leading 
between  them  a  third  that  wore  a  thick  veil  of  black 


363  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

about  her  head  so  as  to  shut  off  all  her  sight.  And  as 
they  led  her  up  and  down,  I  knew  her  for  my  daughter 
Esther  by  the  upward  jerk  of  her  arms,  which  had 
been  her  habit  as  a  child,  and  much  I  marvelled  that 
the  habit  should  have  come  back  to  her  after  such 
long  time.  But  I  took  the  encounter  for  an  omen 
and  a  sign  that  she  would  soon  be  released  from  her 
captors.  So  each  day  I  watched,  but  except  for  a 
sight  of  my  child  I  gained  nothing. 

"  At  last  came  a  time  when  she  no  longer  appeared, 
and  I  waited  in  vain  for  her  coming.  But  a  week 
later,  as  I  stood  clawing  at  the  fence  in  my  distress, 
so  that  the  blood  sprang  from  the  nails,  a  man  came 
out  on  the  terrace  and  stood  looking  about.  And  at 
last  his  eyes  chanced  on  me,  and  he  cried: 

"  '  What  dost  thou  there,  thou  vagabond  ?  Come  in 
and  earn  a  meal  honestly  if  thou  would st,  so  that  thou 
hast  no  need  of  pilfering.' 

"  And  at  the  bidding  I  tremblingly  passed  in 
through  the  gate,  not  knowing  what  this  might  betoken. 
And  then  it  appeared  that  one  of  the  charwomen  had 
fallen  in  a  faint,  and  that  I  was  to  do  her  portion  of 
the  work.  And  from  the  talk  of  the  others  I  learned 
that  on  the  morrow  there  was  to  be  a  great  solemnity, 
because  of  the  dedication  of  a  novice.  And  then  I 
knew  that  the  knife  was  at  my  throat,  and  that  there 
was  great  need  of  a  miracle. 

"Now  it  chanced  that  I  was  stationed  upon  the 
second  floor,  and  on  my  right  hand  there  was  a  door 
whence  I  heard  voices — one  voice  that  spoke  with 
loud  eagerness,  and  a  second  whose  words  came  faint 
and  languid.  And  as  I  lay  there  on  my  hands  and 


"  WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE  "      363 

knees  listening  with  all  the  might  of  my  ears,  the 
door  was  opened,  and  out  came  the  self-same  priest  I 
knew,  red  and  angry,  and  in  passing  he  darted  at  me 
with  his  foot,  bidding  me  move  out  of  his  way.  And 
when  he  was  gone  I  gently  lifted  up  the  latch,  and 
peered  into  the  chamber;  and  there,  stretched  out  all 
her  length  on  the  couch,  lay  my  daughter  Esther,  or, 
at  least,  the  shadow  of  her.  And  at  sight  of  me  she 
gasped,  ( Mother,  mother,  come  quickly,  they  have 
killed  me ! '  for  she  knew  me  despite  my  disguise,  and 
from  that  I  augured  that  she  was  dying,  for  the  dead 
know  all  things.  And  I  flew  to  the  couch,  and  cradling 
her  head  on  my  bosom,  I  bade  her  repeat  the  attesta 
tion  of  Israel:  '  Hear,  the  Lord  is  our  God!'  And 
her  lips  moved  faintly  in  struggling  after  the  sound, 
but  her  hands  kept  ever  jerking  to  her  neck,  as  I  had 
seen  her  do  in  the  courtyard,  but  she  had  not  strength 
to  lift  them  high  enough.  And  at  last  I  understood, 
and,  unfolding  her  dress,  I  saw  upon  her  heart  a  cruci 
fix  of  jasper;  and  snatching  it  up,  I  flung  it  upon  the 
ground,  so  that  it  shivered  into  a  thousand  pieces. 
And  at  that  she  raised  her  head  and  said,  ( Thanks, 

mother  dear;  I  could  not  die  with  that  on  my ' 

And  she  breathed  once  more,  and  only  once  more. 
Then  I  kissed  her  and  said,  '  Blessed  is  He  whose 
judgment  is  justice/  for  that  they  had  only  killed  her 
body,  but  not  her  soul. 

"  And  at  that  moment  there  came  in  three  of  the 
she-priests,  and  they  stood  looking  at  me  and  my 
daughter  and  the  fragments  on  the  floor.  But  I  had 
my  tale  ready:  '  I  heard  a  loud  cry,  and  entering  here, 
I  found  the  maiden  dying;  and  just  before  she  died  the 


364  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Mother  of  God  there' — and  I  pointed  to  the  large 
image  in  clay  that  was  placed  on  a  shelf  over  the 
couch— '  stretched  out  her  hand,  took  the  crucifix  from 
the  maiden's  bosom,  and  hurled  it  upon  the  floor. 
And  all  this  I  saw  with  my  own  eyes,  and  can  testify 
to  the  miracle/ 

"  And  they  dared  not  deny  my  word,  for  that  would 
be  casting  a  doubt  on  the  Mother  of  their  God.  And 
after  I  had  got  me  forth  from  the  convent,  I  rent  my 
garment,  and  waited  till  the  following  day  to  see  them 
bury  my  daughter;  and  in  the  night  I  came  and  tore 
down  the  cross  that  had  been  fixed  over  her  grave,  and 
planted  around  the  place  a  circle  of  pebbles,  so  that 
she  might  lie  apart  from  the  Gentiles.  After  that  I 
hurried  away  to  my  native  place,  there  to  sit  through 
the  ordained  period  of  mourning. 

-'  Thus  did  I  lose  my  daughter — aye,  blessed  be  He 
whose  judgment  is  justice !  But  wherefore  hast  thou 
ceased  to  weep,  thou  that  didst  just  now  make  such 
lamentation  for  thy  child  that  had  not  outgrown  its 
swathing-clothes  ? 

"And  now  there  remained  to  me  but  two,  Isaac 
and  David,  who  were  born  at  one  birth.  And  when 
I  looked  at  them,  I  knew  that  my  old  age  would  not 
go  tottering  along  without  two  strong  staves  to  lean 
upon.  But,  alas!  it  was  my  doom  to  be  a  childless 
mother  of  children,  and  had  I  borne  a  hundred,  I 
should  only  have  been  childless  a  hundredfold — but 
blessed  be  He  whose  judgment  is  justice!  And  the 
two  were  taken  off  in  a  manner  that  has  no  like  within 
the  memory  of  men— even  by  the  hand  of  one  another 
were  they  taken  off,  and  died. 


"  WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE  "      365 

"  Truly  thou  art  a  stranger  in  this  land,  yet  hast 
thou  heard  of  the  great  uprising  wherewith  the  people 
of  this  country  were  uplifted  against  their  oppressors, 
for  the  fame  thereof  has  flooded  the  world,  even  as 
their  blood  flooded  the  soil  of  their  fathers.  But 
nowhere  was  the  earth  redder  than  there  where  flowed 
the  blood  of  my  twin  sons,  Isaac  and  David.  For 
they  heeded  not  the  Voice  of  their  mother,  but  said, 
'  Counsel  us  not  to  our  shame,  so  that  it  be  said,  Oh, 
this  valiant  progeny  of  the  Maccabees!  Look  how 
these  cocks  crow  each  on  his  own  dunghill!  For  we 
are  mindful  of  our  brother  Benjamin,  who  died  by  the 
tyrant,  and  we  have  not  forgotten  our  sister  Esther, 
who  died  through  the  curse  of  his  superstition;  and 
for  every  hair  of  their  head  we  shall  slay  one  of  his 
servants/  Thus  they  spoke,  talking  big  words  as  is 
the  wont  of  boys.  And  Isaac  had  lately  married,  and 
he  said  to  his  wife,  '  Fear  not ;  I  shall  return  by  the 
time  I  can  look  at  the  face  of  my  child/ 

"  So  they  went  forth  with  the  rest,  and  fought  the 
battles  of  their  countrymen.  And  we  women  sat  at 
home,  and  fought  against  their  evil  destiny  with  pray 
ers  and  supplications;  and  our  fighting,  too,  was  not 
without  its  bloodshed.  And  suddenly  we  heard  of  the 
great  battle  that  had  been  fought  at  Bialablotta,  the 
place  of  the  chalk  mud,  and  that  the  Emperor's  men 
had  prevailed,  and  had  driven  their  enemies — the 
brothers-in-arms  of  my  sons — before  them,  and  had 
slain  them  in  multitudes.  And  a  great  band  of  the 
fugitives  had  fled  within  two  miles  of  our  village,  and 
were  encamped  in  the  forest,  where  they  would  lie  in 
wait  for  their  pursuers. 


366  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  And  the  whole  tenor  of  the  calamity  was  related 
to  us  by  one  of  the  fugitives  that  escaped  the  slaughter; 
and  I  remember  his  words  distinctly,  for  I  drank  them 
in,  not  with  my  ears,  but  with  all  the  soul  that  is 
within  me.  And  this  is  what  he  said :  '  It  was  in  the 
gathering  of  the  darkness  that  we  heard  the  trampling 
of  hoofs  from  afar,  and  from  the  sound  we  knew  that 
the  Cossacks  were  coming.  So  we  got  ready,  standing 
behind  the  trees  on  either  side  of  the  road,  intending 
to  close  in  upon  them  as  they  passed  through  and 
make  havoc  of  them  in  our  midst.  But  the  Cossack  is 
a  child  of  the  devil  by  a  she-fox;  and  thus  it  was  that 
they  escaped  destruction  by  the  pricking  of  a  horse- 
ear.  For  the  stallions  on  which  they  rode  became 
restive,  tossing  their  heads  and  sniffing  the  air;  and 
from  that  their  riders  knew  that  there  were  mares 
ahead,  probably  the  mares  of  some  transport.  But  as 
none  of  their  comrades  had  passed  in  front,  they 
guessed  that  some  body  of  the  enemy  lay  across  their 
road.  So,  laughing  at  their  own  shrewdness,  they  dis 
mounted,  and  waited  till  the  dark  had  come  on  full. 
And  then  they  picked  out  a  hundred  of  their  horses 
that  were  of  least  store,  tied  upon  their  backs  a  corpse, 
wherever  they  could  find  one, — and  the  search  was 
easy, — and  sent  them  galloping  upon  our  trail.  And 
we,  hearing  them  advance,  stood  waiting  with  our 
weapons  in  our  hands  till  the  squadron  had  come  up; 
and  then  we  rushed  forth,  and  started  to  hack  at  them 
with  our  knives,  for  we  dared  not  shoot  for  fear  of 
assistance  coming  to  them.  And  how  it  was  we  knew 
not.  There  was  no  moon,  and  the  trees  towered  high 
like  great  fingers  pointing  to  heaven  in  accusation  of 


"  WHOSE  JUDGMENT  IS  JUSTICE  "      367 

the  horror;  but,  meeting  no  resistance,  we  fought  and 
hacked  and  slaughtered,  until  suddenly  we  found  other 
weapons  darting  at  our  bosoms,  and  we  thought  that 
the  enemy  had  worked  up  his  mettle.  Then  we 
returned  the  stabs  with  twofold  vigor,  and  not  a  cry 
was  uttered  even  by  those  in  their  death  agony,  for 
that  was  against  the  command.  And  we  thought  that 
now  we  were  avenged;  but  just  then  came  the  first 
streak  of  dawn,  and  we  saw  what  we  had  done,  and 
how  our  madness  had  betrayed  us  into  self-destruction, 
and  there  lay  four  hundred  of  us  whom  our  own  arms 
had  sent  into  the  last  great  sleep/ 

"  Thus  much  he  told  us,  and  the  rest  I  learned  for 
myself.  For  early  in  the  morning,  when  we  heard  of 
the  carnage,  we  went  forth  with  fomentations  and 
bandages  to  help  the  wounded,  for  we  thought,  e  Thus 
may  other  mothers  go  forth  to  ease  our  sons  when 
they  suffer/  And  I  was  the  foremost,  and  went 
amongst  the  bodies,  turning  them  over  and  feeling 
their  hearts;  but  most  of  them  were  still,  for  whose 
hand  strikes  more  surely  than  that  of  a  friend  or 
familiar  ? 

"  And  at  last  I  came  to  where  lay  two  bodies  close 
to  each  other,  with  their  left  hands  clasped  tightly 
and  their  lips  almost  touching;  and  the  dagger  of  the 
one  stuck  in  the  throat  of  the  other,  and  the  knife 
of  the  second  gashed  the  bosom  of  the  first.  And 
at  the  sight  a  faintness  came  over  me,  and  I  crept  up 
to  them  on  my  knees,  averting  my  head  with  dire  fore 
bodings;  and  when  I  turned  it — it  was  like  twisting 
it  from  the  foundations  of  my  neck — and  looked,  why, 
behold — blessed  be  He  whose  judgment  is  justice! — 


368  STEANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

there  were  my  two  sons  Isaac  and  David,  or  they  that 
had  been  my  sons,  for  now  they  belonged  to  the  earth 
whereof  their  bodies  were  made.  And  with  the 
strength  of  three  I  dragged  them  among  the  trees,  and 
covered  them  with  my  headcloth;  and  then  I  ran  to 
fetch  Naomi,  Isaac's  wife,  who  was  a  mother  of  eleven 
days,  and  said  to  her,  '  Quick!  bring  thy  babe,  so  that 
it  may  look  once  upon  the  face  of  its  father,  for  he 
will  never  look  upon  the  face  of  his  child — blessed  be 
He  whose  judgment  is  justice ! ' 

"And  I  took  with  me  a  hand-wagon,  and  laid 
thereon  my  two  sons,  and  conveyed  them  to  the  '  Good 
Place/  lest  they  should  be  deposited  with  the  others 
in  the  great  hole  that  served  for  the  common  sepulchre. 

"These  things  have  I  seen  and  done,  and  I  have 
eaten  to  the  full  of  child-sorrow,  and  they  were  none 
of  them  sucklings  like  thine.  What  is  this?  Dry- 
eyed?  Truly  it  is  said  that  a  small  grief  melts  away 
in  the  telling  of  a  greater.  And  now  let  us  go,  since 
the  night  air  is  chill,  and  here  comes  my  grandson 
to  search  for  me;  for  the  love  he  bears  me  is  as  great 
as  half  the  love  I  have  buried  in  the  graves  of  my 
four  children." 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS 

BY  profession  the  two  were  "  meshorrerim,"  which, 
idiomatically  rendered,  means  "  journeymen  synagogue 
minstrels  ";  but  for  everyday  purposes  of  life  we  may 
call  them  choristers.  Of  the  two,  Klotz  sang  bass,  and 
Avshalom  tenor.  Apart  from  this  difference,  they  were 
great  friends;  their  hearts  beat  in  concord,  and  they 
swerved  not  from  each  other  in  truth  or  in  falsehood. 

For  the  benefit  of  those  who  might  wish  to  adopt 
the  calling,  I  shall  here  set  forth  in  more  detail  the 
scope  and  function  of  such  a  "  chorister."  First  of  all 
you  must  possess  a  voice  to  sing  with — a  good  one  of 
necessity,  an  excellent  one  by  preference.  Then  you 
must  gain  admission  into  the  troupe  of  one  of  the 
"ehazanim,"  specifically  "precentors/'  whose  talents 
as  such  are  too  great  to  be  supported  by  one  single  com 
munity,  and  who  in  consequence  give  devotional  per 
formances  on  tour.  For  instance,  the  proprietor  of  the 
choir  to  which  Klotz  and  Avshalom  belonged  was 
Shaya  Piper,  whose  headquarters  were  in  Tamalov, 
which  is  in  Lithuania,  whence  he  made  choral  in 
cursions  into  the  country  around.  If  you  are  a  little 
boy,  you  must  take  especial  care  lest  you  should  be 
kidnapped  by  a  rival  itinerant  company;  such  things 
are  not  unknown,  therefore  lay  my  words  to  your 
soul.  You  must  furthermore  be  endowed  with  a  ver 
satile  digestion;  for  each  day  you  will  be  quartered 
on  a  different  household  for  your  dinner,  and  the  fare 


370  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

ranges  from  roast  goose  to  herring  and  potatoes, 
according  to  the  means  or  the  meanness  of  your  hosts. 
If  you  have  survived  all  this,  you  either  become  an 
operatic  star  in  a  West  European  Reform  Temple,  or 
you  may  marry  the  precentor's  daughter,  and  inherit 
the  prestige  and  practice  of  your  father-in-law. 

At  present,  however,  no  such  dreams  of  glory  filled 
the  bosoms  of  Klotz  and  Avshalom.  Their  hearts 
were  heavy  within  them,  despite  the  fact  that  this 
was  the  season  of  the  "  Feast  of  Lots,"  the  joyous 
commemoration  of  Israel's  escape  from  the  spite  of 
Amalek,  when  Haman  and  his  sons  were  hanged  on  a 
tree  ten  cubits  high — eleven  according  to  some  authori 
ties;  one  might  as  well  be  impartial  in  these  matters 
of  history. 

"  Who  among  them  did  this  deed  of  malice  unto 
us  ?  "  asked  Klotz,  with  reference  to  the  cause  of  their 
affliction.  The  two  had  been  walking  across  country 
for  the  last  two  hours,  and  by  their  rate  of  walking 
it  seemed  they  had  a  whole  purgatory  of  devils  to  walk 
out  of  themselves. 

"  I  don't  know,"  gasped  Avshalom,  on  whom  the 
exertion  was  beginning  to  tell,  for  he  was  not  half  so 
sturdy  as  his  comrade.  "No  one  in  particular,  unless 
it  be  Klumpka,  the  plate-licker;  but  they  all  hate  us — 
thee,  because  thou  art  good  to  look  upon,  and  the 
maidens  of  the  town  make  much  of  thee;  and  me,  I 
know  not,  unless  it  be  because  thou  hast  taken  me  to 
thy  bosom,  after  the  manner  of  a  brother,  and  so  I 
share  their  hatred  as  I  share  thy  love." 

"  The  dogs !  "  growled  Klotz.  "  All  the  plagues  of 
Pharaoh  into  their  vitals.  I  never  did  one  of  them 
evil  wittingly,  for  I  am  not  a  man  who  burns  down 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS         371 

his  neighbor's  house,  and  steals  his  property  in  the  con 
fusion;  but  on  me  they  had  no  mercy,  and  would  grow 
rich  in  my  despoiling.  Let  us  go  back,  Avshalom. 
We  cannot  run  away  from  our  calamity,  unless  we 
walked  all  the  way  to  Gehennom." 

And  upon  their  homeward  journey  their  minds 
harked  back  for  the  twentieth  time  to  the  terrible 
scene  of  the  morning,  which  had  turned  the  Sabbath 
for  them  into  a  day  of  sorrowing.  And  this  is  what 
had  happened.  It  was  towards  the  end  of  the  service; 
the  synagogue  was  filled  with  the  sound  of  praying- 
shawls  being  folded  up  and  with  the  opening  and  shut 
ting  of  seat-boxes,  when  a  hush  went  through  the 
assembly,  for  the  preceptor  of  preceptors,  the  shining 
light  of  religion,  even  Rabbi  Gamaliel  himself  had 
risen  from  his  seat,  and  had  stood  before  the  Sacred 
Ark,  and  had  lifted  up  his  voice: 

"  A  woe  and  a  sorrow  which  mine  eyes  have  be 
holden  will  I  relate  unto  you,  my  masters.  It  befell 
on  the  fifth  day  of  the  week,  which  was  the  Fast  of 
Esther,  that,  upon  a  certain  report  which  had  reached 
me,  I  entered  the  dwelling-place  of  Shaya  Piper,  the 
precentor,  at  the  hour  when  all  his  choristers  were 
assembled,  there  to  make  inquiries  into  the  state  of 
their  phylacteries  and  Four-corner  garments.  As  to 
the  Four-corner  garments,  I  found  that  they  were 
in  fit  condition,  excepting  that  of  Avshalom  the  tenor, 
whereof  the  fringes  appending  thereto  were  too  short 
by  half  their  ordained  length,  and  that  of  Yashko 
Klotz  the  bass,  which  was  none  at  all.  And  again 
what  pertains  to  the  phylacteries,  all  were  in  fit 
condition,  excepting  those  of  Avshalom  the  aforesaid, 


372  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

whereof  one  of  the  headbands  had  been  riven  in 
twain,  and  those  of  Yashko  Klotz,  whereof  the  scroll 
of  parchment  had  been  removed  from  out  of  the 
leathern  arm-capsule.  And  I  bowed  my  head  in  afflic 
tion  that  this  should  be.  But  as  to  these  two  who 
have  defiled  the  Name,  I  herewith  decree,  that  during 
this  Feast  of  Lots  it  shall  not  be  lawful  to  ask  them  to 
join  in  the  merrymaking,  and  that  they  shall  go 
sequestered  from  all  the  congregation;  and  further 
more,  it  shall  be  forbidden  to  them  to  make  the  quest 
with  their  pyxes  for  the  messenger-gifts  which  it  is 
customary  to  bestow  upon  this  season.  Thus  have  I 
pronounced  in  my  wisdom  and  judgment,  and  unto 
this  let  us  say  Amen." 

The  Amen  was  scarcely  appropriate,  but  as  Rabbi 
Gamaliel  had  a  habit  of  never  saying  two  words  with 
out  clinching  them  with  an  "Unto  this  let  us  say," 
the  congregation  duly  responded  "  Amen  " ;  and  Klotz 
and  Avshalom,  from  sheer  stupefaction  or  from  force 
of  habit,  joined  in  the  response.  But  the  others  knew 
not  from  what  cause  they  responded,  and  said  that  not 
only  were  they  heretics,  but  also  impudent  faces. 

Now,  however,  the  full  force  of  his  disgrace  came 
home  to  Klotz,  and  his  bile  seethed  like  a  caldron 
with  the  fire  of  his  anger.  That  there  had  been  a  con 
spiracy  he  was  sure.  He  knew  that  most  of  his  fellow- 
choristers  were  but  "  righteousness  clad  in  fur-skins," 
which  translated  means  "wolves  in  sheep's  clothing"; 
for  none  of  them  kept  the  appointed  ordinances  very 
strictly,  and  the  fact  that  they  had  come  without  blot 
or  blame  from  the  ordeal  of  inspection  was  something 
more  than  accident.  It  was  clear  that  some  one  had 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS         373 

laid  information  against  him  and  Avshalom,  and  had 
warned  all  the  others,  so  that  they  were  prepared. 
And  so  this  misfortune  had  come  upon  the  two;  and 
a  misfortune  it  was,,  at  least  to  Klotz,  for  the  pro 
hibition  to  quest  meant  a  more  serious  loss  to  him 
than  appeared  on  the  surface.  And  now,  as  he  thought 
of  the  gibes  and  mocking  looks  from  which  he  had 
fled  and  to  which  he  was  returning,  he  tore  at  his 
hair,  beat  his  bosom,  and  said,  "Woe,  woe  is  unto 
me!" 

"  Let  be,"  said  Avshalom;  "  it  is  not  good  to  afflict 
thy  soul  more  than  need  be  over  this  matter.  The 
rascals — a  black  year  upon  them!  But  the  time  will 
come  for  our  triumph.  Be  patient." 

"  It  will  come,  but  it  must  be  soon,"  said  Klotz, 
vehemently.  "  I  had  counted  on  the  money,"  he  went 
on  more  gently,  "  to  send  to  my  poor  mother.  She  is 
a  widow,  and  old,  and  she  will  be  sorely  in  want,  for  I 
have  sent  her  nothing  ever  since  the  Good  Days;  and 
then  it  was  no  great  matter." 

"I  have  two.  roubles  and  a  half,"  suggested  Av 
shalom. 

"  Which  thou  hast  saved  up  in  copecks  to  buy  a 
pair  of  boots  therewith,"  broke  in  Klotz.  "  No,  little 
brother," — and  he  laid  his  hand  caressingly  on  Av- 
shalom's  neck,—"  I  will  not  take  from  my  heart  to  give 
unto  my  soul.  But  let  me  consider — my  head  is  chok 
ing  with  thought.  T  care  not  for  other  things,  only 
I  cannot  think  of  her  as  starving,"  and  his  strong 
voice  shook  a  little. 

So  they  trudged  on  without  another  word  till  the 
chimneys  of  Tamalov  hove  in  sight.  Klotz  came  to  a 
sudden  standstill. 


374  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Answer  me,  Avshalom,"  he  replied;  "  whom  of  the 
villagers  around  dost  thou  take  to  be  the  most  stupid 
and  ignorant?  Thou  knowest  the  country." 

"  That  is  an  easy  question,"  replied  Avshalom,  read 
ily,  "  those  of  Tarnagov,  without  a  doubt.  Why,  they 
are  more  stupid  than  those  of  Chelm  in  Bohemia. 
Dost  thou  not  know  the  tale,  how  at  a  certain  feast, 
whereat  they  all  appeared  in  white  trousers,  they  got 
so  heavy  with  wine  that  they  feared  to  rise  from  table, 
lest  each  should  walk  away  on  his  neighbor's  legs  ?  " 

"  I  have  heard  the  tale,"  said  Klotz,  "  but  I  do  not 
believe  it,  it  is  merely  a  manner  of  speaking.  Do  they 
know  Eussian,  dost  thou  think?  " 

"Eussian!"  echoed  Avshalom,  disdainfully.  "Dost 
thou  take  them  for  scholars?  They  understand  no 
language  but  their  own ;  and  we  can  talk  that  no  worse 
than  they,  unless  thou  countest  the  grunting  of  their 
pigs  and  the  bellowing  of  their  bullocks  at  the  plough 
for  a  language." 

"King  Solomon  understood  the  language  of  many 
beasts,  and  he  was  a  wise  man,"  remarked  Klotz. 

"  King  Solomon  understood  because  of  his  wisdom, 
and  they  understand  because  of  their  ignorance — that 
is  the  difference,"  answered  Avshalom. 

"Once  more,"  said  Klotz,  "how  far  is  it  thither?" 

"Two  swift  horses  it  will  take  less  than  three 
hours/' 

Avshalom  wondered  exceedingly  at  the  drift  of  these 
questions;  but  Klotz  did  not  choose  to  be  explicit,  and 
in  that  case  it  was  no  use  pumping  him. 

"Let  us  walk  more  quickly,"  he  said  resolutely; 
"and  hold  thy  head  high.  Let  us  not  give  the  thieves 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS         375 

cause  to  mock  us  by  slinking  along  like  whipped  curs. 
And,  besides,  I  am  hungry/' 

Avshalom  said  nothing,  but  wondered  still  more  at 
the  change  of  voice  in  Klotz  and  the  look  of  determina 
tion — almost  of  exultation — that  flashed  from  his  eyes. 
What  was  in  his  mind  ? 

The  Sabbath  was  nearly  over.  On  all  sides  the 
people  were  streaming  to  the  House  of  Prayer,  to 
hear  the  Book  of  Esther  read  and  to  execrate  Hainan's 
memory  and  make  sport  of  him  in  effigy.  At  the 
second  corner  they  saw  Shaya  Piper  and  his  chor 
isters  coming  on  in  a  body.  Klotz  did  not  swerve  an 
inch,  but  linked  his  arm  in  Avshalom's,  and  passed 
straight  through  their  midst,  nor  did  he  turn  his  head 
at  the  gibes  and  laughter  that  broke  from  them  in  his 
rear. 

"Let  them  laugh,"  he  said  quietly;  "I  think  I 
shall  prick  a  big  hole  in  their  laughter  and  make  it 
ring  hollow." 

Avshalom  looked  puzzled. 

"  Are  we  not  going  to  the  synagogue  ?  "  he  asked. 

"No,"  said  Klotz  curtly,  "they  might  ask  us  to 
sit  on  the  mourners'  seats;  and,  besides,  I  have  work 
to  do  that  will  be  best  done  while  we  are  alone." 

Avshalom  was  a  little  afraid.  He  did  not  like  miss 
ing  the  service,  although  the  choristers  did  not  assist 
thereat;  but  in  the  hands  of  Klotz  he  was  as  clay  be 
neath  the  potter's  thumb. 

By  now  they  had  reached  their  place  of  abode.  It 
consisted  of  three  rooms,  one  of  which  was  consecrated 
to  Shaya  and  his  wife — they  had  no  children;  the 
second  served  as  a  kitchen;  and  the  third  was  a 


376  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

spacious  hay-loft,  where  the  choristers  slept  on  trusses 
of  straw  or  anything  that  could  be  misconstrued  into 
a  bed. 

"Let  us  get  something  to  eat  first;  my  stomach  is 
whining  piteously,"  said  Klotz. 

But  the  " getting  something"  was  more  easily  said 
than  done.  Shaya's  wife  was  economical,, — gossips 
called  her  miserly, — and  kept  everything  well  under 
lock  and  key.  But  at  last  they  found  half  a  Sabbath 
loaf  and  five  onions.  Klotz  devoured  his  share  in 
silence,  thinking  busily  all  the  time. 

"Ah/'  he  sighed  regretfully,  after  he  had  finished 
the  last  morsel,  "glutton  that  I  am,  if  I  had  not 
eaten  so  quickly,  I  should  still  be  eating;  but  blessed 
be  God  that  there  is  no  more,  for  a  full  stomach 
makes  an  idle  brain.  Let  me  get  to  my  task,  for 
clearly  Providence  is  with  me." 

It  was  quite  dark  now,  and  three  stars  had  come 
out  to  convoy  the  departing  Sabbath;  but  Klotz  knew 
where  the  tallow  stumps  from  the  synagogue  can 
delabra — one  of  Shaya's  perquisites — were  deposited. 
The  way  he  set  to  work  was  peculiar.  He  went  into 
the  kitchen,  and  there  took  a  saucer  of  shoe-blacking, 
which,  by  the  infusion  of  water,  he  converted  into  a 
make-believe  for  ink;  then  he  found  a  splinter  of  wood, 
which  he  sharpened  into  a  stylus,  and  lastly  helped 
himself  to  a  huge  sheet  that  served-  as  fly-leaf  to 
Shaya's  Pentateuch.  After  that  he  sat  down  at  the 
table  and  wrote.  Avshalom  looked  over  his  shoulder 
in  silent  wonder;  Klotz  was  covering  the  paper  with 
the  letters  of  the  Russian  alphabet  in  every  possible 
combination — for  what  purpose  Heaven  only  knew,  for 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS         377 

Klotz  was  ignorant  of  the  Russian  tongue,  and  had 
never  got  further  in  the  study  of  it  than  the  shape  of 
the  letters.  At  last  the  two  pages  were  filled,  and 
weary  work  it  had  been,  since  it  had  worn  away  the 
stylus  to  half  its  original  length  and  the  patience  of 
Klotz  to  its  entire  extent. 

"  There  is  just  one  thing  more  wanted/'  he  said, 
looking  with  a  satisfied  smile  at  his  handiwork. 

He  took  one  of  the  lighted  stumps,  went  up  to  the 
hay-loft,  and  in  two  minutes  came  down  again,  carry 
ing  in  his  hand  a  waxen  seal  as  large  as  a  small  plate. 

"  Where  didst  thou  procure  that  ? "  queried  Av- 
shalom,  awed  hy  his  friend's  resourcefulness. 

"I  tore  it  from  Klumpka's  slaughter-certificate; 
thou  knowest  he  holds  an  authorization  to  kill  cattle — 
may  he  cut  his  own  throat  hy  mistake ! "  answered 
Klotz,  unconcernedly;  and  with  that  he  heated  the 
wax,  and  glued  it  firmly  on  to  the  paper  in  the  empty 
space  he  had  left  in  the  righthand  corner  at  the  top. 
Then  he  held  the  document  at  arm's  length;  it  was, 
indeed,  a  stately  and  imposing  affair. 

"  So  far  so  good,"  he  said,  folding  it  up  carefully 
and  putting  it  into  his  pocket.  "  And  now  if  thou  art 
still  willing  to  trust  me  with  thy  two  roubles  and  a 
half  till  to-morrow — only  till  to-morrow,"  and  he 
looked  inquiringly  at  Avshalom. 

The  latter  needed  no  further  bidding,  and  Klotz 
took  without  a  word  of  thanks  the  tanned  goat- 
bladder  that  served  alternately  as  purse  and  tobacco- 
pouch.  These  mutual  accommodations  were  a  matter 
of  course. 

"  And  now  we  must  go  to  Chatzkel,  the  huckster, 


378  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

and  see  if  we  can  find  there  what  we  want/'  said 
Klotz. 

This  particular  Chatzkel — for  his  name  is  legion — 
kept  a  sort  of  co-operative  store,  and  boasted  that  in 
his  shop  one  could  purchase  everything,  from  tin- 
tacks  to  atoned  transgressions,  as  he  quaintly  put  it. 
Otherwise  he  was  not  a  bad  sort  of  a  fellow,  and  did 
many  a  little  act  of  kindness  in  odd  times  and  in  odd 
places. 

Klotz  and  Avshalom  sallied  out  into  the  streets,  and 
from  every  side  there  came  upon  their  ears  the  sound 
of  high  revelry.  Here  and  there  they  met  with  strange 
apparitions,  boys  and  men  in  grotesque  disguises — the 
masqueraders  of  the  Jewish  carnival.  Avshalom's  eyes 
followed  them  enviously  into  the  houses,  and  he 
clenched  his  fist  at  the  redoubled  laughter  that  fol 
lowed  the  maskers'  entry.  From  all  these  joys  he 
was  an  outcast.  But  Klotz  made  no  sign  that  he 
heard  and  saw.  Chatzkel  was  behind  his  counter  as 
they  entered.  ^  ; 

"  I  cannot  give  you  anything ;  it  is  forbidden  by  the 
Rabbi's  edict,"  he  greeted  them. 

"I  have  not  come  for  a  gift,  but  for  a  loan,"  said 
Klotz,  quietly. 

"  I  only  lend  on  deposit,"  returned  Chatzkel. 

^That,  too,  I  have  foreseen — here  is  money;"  and 
Klotz  displayed  the  vast  amount  of  wealth  that  was 
his  on  trust. 

"H'm,  it  depends;  what  do  you  require ?"  asked 
Chatzkel. 

"  If  you  have  them,"  said  Klotz,  as  if  he  were  asking 
for  an  ounce  of  pepper,  "  I  want  a  general's  uniform, 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SEKFS        379 

with  cloak  and  medals;  further,  two  false  beards  and  a 
postilion's  hat." 

Chatzkel  opened  his  eyes  wide,  and  Avshalom  nearly 
jumped  out  of  his  skin.  He  had  thought  they  were 
going  there  to  get  a  bottle  of  brandy  and  some  honey- 
cake  to  make  a  little  feast  of  their  own.  But  all  these 
absurdities — what  were  they  for?  Was  Klotz  mad? 

"  I  know  not  what  is  the  purpose  of  your  disguise, 
nor  how  it  will  avail  you,"  said  Chatzkel,  thoughtfully, 
after  a  while;  "  but  if  I  have  the  things,  you  can  take 
them  and  leave  your  money  as  a  pledge." 

So  they  followed  him  to  his  magazine,  and  he  rum 
maged  among  the  litter  and  the  neatly-stacked  bales, 
and  behold! — did  fortune  favor  them,  or  was  Chatzkel 
really  a  great  and  wonderful  man? — the  articles  were 
there.  "  What  was  there  not  ? "  as  Chatzkel  said, 
wiping  his  forehead,  which  shone  with  pride  and  per 
spiration.  But  he  did  not  tell  them  why  he  was  so 
good  to  them — that  it  was  because  he  himself  led  a 
joyless,  kinless  life,  and  therefore  could  feel  for  them 
in  their  lonesome  wretchedness. 

"  Stay  with  me  this  evening,"  he  said,  as  he  helped 
them  to  make  up  their  packages. 

"  I  thank  you,  but  I  cannot ;  I  am  tired,  my  limbs 
feel  all  broken,"  replied  Klotz,  "and  besides,  it  is 
not  lawful." 

"Ah,  I  forgot,"  said  Chatzkel,  with  a  sigh,  as  he 
watched  them  out  into  the  darkness.  But  he  kept  the 
money.  "  They  will  be  glad  of  it  afterwards,"  he 
thought  to  himself .  "Who  knows?  They  might  have 
gamed  it  away,  or  spent  it  unworthily." 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  when  they  reached  home 


380  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

again.  "  We  must  get  to  bed  straight  away,"  said 
Klotz,  "  for  we  must  be  up  early  in  the  morning." 

Avshalom  was  nothing  loth;  he  was  very  tired,  so 
tired,  in  fact,  that  he  could  not  take  the  trouble  to 
ask  why  Klotz  fetched  the  stable-key  that  lay  under 
Shaya's  pillow,  and  put  it  into  his  pocket;  nor  why 
Klotz  placed  the  two  straw-sacks  on  which  they  slept 
nearest  to  the  door.  Their  bundles  they  had  bestowed 
in  the  pent-house  out  in  the  courtyard,  wherein  Shaya's 
wife  kept  her  geese  for  fattening  from  Tabernacles 
until  the  Festival  of  Lights. 

The  scent  of  the  dawn  was  in  the  air  when  the 
others  returned.  They  were  none  of  them  too  steady 
about  the  legs,  and  as  they  stumbled  up  the  staircase 
to  the  hay-loft,  guffawing  and  chattering,  Klotz  and 
Avshalom  started  up  from  their  sleep. 

"  Look  at  them,"  jeered  Klumpka,  holding  the  can 
dle  over  them,  "  where  they  lie  in  their  beauty,  David 
and  Jonathan.  They  are  dreaming  of  the  riches  they 
will  gather  to-morrow,"  and  the  others  laughed.  But 
the  two  gave  no  sign  that  they  heard,  and  Klotz 
smacked  his  lips,  and  threw  back  his  head,  as  was  his 
habit  to  do  during  sleep. 

And  presently  Klumpka  got  tired  of  his  jeering,  and 
lay  down.  Klotz  nudged  Avshalom,  and  whispered, 
"Keep  awake,  for  as  soon  as  they  are  asleep  we  shall 
go  forth."  And  in  another  half  an  hour  they  got  up 
quietly  and  stole  down.  They  had  to  pass  through 
Shaya's  room;  he  heard  them,  and  sat  up  in  bed. 

"  Who  goes  there  ?  "  he  cried. 

"It  is  I,  Klotz,  and  Avshalom,"  was  the  answer  in 
humble  tones;  "we  are  going  to  the  Midrash-House, 
there  to  read  in  the  Sacred  Writ." 


THE  MOKDECAI  OF  THE  SEKFS         381 

"There  ye  do  well/'  yawned  Shaya,  "it  will  turn 
your  minds  to  good,  ye  sinners  in  Israel,  and  may  God 
pour  grace  and  contrition  into  your  hearts.  No  won 
der  evil  dreams  visit  me  at  night;  to  think  I  have 
been  sleeping  all  this  time  with  two  pair  of  desecrated 
phylacteries  hanging  over  my  bed/7  for  that  was  the 
regular  place  for  the  articles  in  question,  so  that 
they  might  serve  as  security  against  their  owner's 
decampment. 

Klotz  quickly  led  the  way  to  the  pent-house,  took  up 
the  bundles,  and  then  passed  on  into  the  silent  street, 
down  towards  the  shed  that  served  for  Shaya's  stable; 
it  stood  half  a  mile  beyond  the  town,  but  it  was  well 
protected,  for  the  lock-chain  was  huge  and  massive, 
and  the  gates  well  fastened  with  clamps  and  rivets 
of  iron.  Avshalom  followed  drowsily,  grumbling  at 
his  comrade's  strange  proceedings.  Klotz  quickly 
opened  the  gate  and  passed  in. 

"  Don't  stand  there  shivering,  sleepy-head,"  he  cried; 
"  help  me  pull  out  the  wagon  and  harness  the  horses — 
it  will  warm  thee  up." 

In  about  ten  minutes  the  conveyance  stood  ready. 
The  wagon  was  large  and  roomy,  the  bottom  littered 
with  clean  straw,  with  hurdles  ribbing  the  length  of 
both  sides,  and  the  two  horses  were  strong  and  ser 
viceable.  Shaya  used  them  to  convey  his  company 
from  place  to  place  during  his  professional  peregrina 
tions. 

Avshalom  looked  from  the  horses  to  Klotz,  and  at 
last  asked  the  question  that  had  been  trembling  on 
his  lips. 

"  Thou  art  not  going  to  sell  them?  " 


382  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

"No,  simpleton,  I  am  not  a  thief,"  came  the  in 
dignant  reply;  "we  shall  bring  them  back  before  it  is 
time  to  groom  and  fodder  them;  and  now  for  our 
disguise." 

It  did  not  take  him  long  to  don  his  uniform;  it  was 
big  enough  to  go  over  his  own  clothes,  and  made  him 
look  stalwart  and  broad-shouldered;  and  the  cloak  hid 
the  folds  that  hung  loosely  in  the  back.  Avshalom 
put  on  his  postilion's  hat,  and  tucked  his  trousers  into 
the  shafts  of  his  top-boots.  And  when  they  were 
ready,  Klotz  jumped  up  and  seized  the  reins,  and  away 
they  went  over  the  hard  frozen  ground ;  it  was  towards 
the  end  of  February,  and  the  cold  held  the  world  with 
an  iron  grasp. 

"  Now  wilt  thou  tell  me  what  hare-brained  idea  thou 
art  harboring? "  asked  Avshalom,  getting  seriously 
alarmed  as  to  the  outcome  of  their  venture. 

They  had  gone  a  good  way  already,  and  Klotz  had 
talked  about  this  and  that  and  nothing  at  all. 

"  Willingly,"  he  answered,  "  for  we  must  concert 
our  plans  so  that  there  may  not  be  a  hitch." 

And  then  he  told  what  it  was  in  his  heart  to  do; 
and  as  Avshalom  listened,  his  limbs  began  to  shake, 
and  he  would  have  turned  white,  if  the  cold  had  not 
already  turned  him  blue. 

"Thou  madman,"  he  said,  through  his  chattering 
teeth;  "we  shall  be  discovered,  and  they  will  tear  us 
to  pieces." 

"Thou  art  very  stupid,"  remarked  Klotz,  indiffer 
ently;  "  have  we  not  been  through  worse  things  before? 
Hast  thou  forgotten  how  we  escaped  the  recruiters  at 
Ulsk?" 


THE  MOEDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS         383 

And  then  he  gradually  managed  to  talk  a  little 
courage  into  his  faint-hearted  ally;  and  what  his  per 
suasion  failed  to  do  was  effected  by  a  certain  bottle  of 
good  size  and  better  contents:  Klotz  had  found  it  in 
the  tail  pocket  of  his  uniform,,  for  Chatzkel  had 
thought  that  smuggling  a  gift  did  not  come  within  the 
rabbinical  edict.  And  so  they  went  on,  past  the  turf- 
stacks  of  Bavarak,  past  the  flour-mills  of  Diabritz, 
past  the  cattle-pens  of  Yorshk.  And  between  the  ad 
monitions  of  Klotz  and  the  ministrations  of  the  bottle, 
Avshalom  beguiled  the  time  in  mumbling  benedictory 
psalms  on  their  enterprise.  At  last  they  caught  sight 
of  the  birch-forest,  the  outposts  of  which  skirted  the 
houses  of  Tarnagov,  their  destination.  Klotz  now 
put  the  reins  into  Avshalom's  hands,  and  told  him  to 
drive  at  break-neck  speed.  So  they  rattled  with  tre 
mendous  clatter  through  the  high-street,  while  every 
window  flew  open,  and  craning  necks  and  gaping 
mouths  protruded  in  multitudes.  They  pulled  up  at 
the  tavern,  and  at  the  sound  two  ostlers  rushed  out. 
Avshalom  jumped  down,  and  stood  holding  the  horses' 
heads. 

"Help  his  Excellency  to  alight/'  he  whispered  to 
the  two  men.  "  Our  state-carriage  broke  a  wheel,  and 
we  had  to  come  on  in  a  ladder-cart.  My  master  bears 
important  despatches  from  St.  Petersburg." 

But  Klotz  grandiosely  waved  aside  their  assistance, 
as  though  he  did  not  like  them  to  lay  hands  on  him, 
and  got  out  with  much  ceremony  and  circumstance. 

"  What,  is  there  no  one  here  to  receive  a  messenger 
of  the  Government  ?  "  he  roared,  pulling  himself  up 
to  his  full  height,  which  exceeded  that  of  an  ordinary 


384  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

man.     And  without  further  ado  he  strode  towards  the 
house,,  closely  followed  by  Avshalom. 

On  the  threshold  they  were  met  by  the  host,  hot  and 
breathless.  "  Pardon,  your  Honor,"  he  said,  "  I  was 
kennelling  my  bloodhounds — they  are  very  fierce  to 
day,  and  the  horses " 

Klotz  stopped  him  with  a  wave  of  the  hand.  "  I 
cannot  have  long  speeches,  for  I  am  in  haste,"  he  said. 
"  Let  the  town-crier  go  out  and  bid  all  the  heads  of 
families  assemble  here  within  the  hour,  and  let  those 
that  cannot  come  send  their  proxies.  I  bear  an  im 
perial  rescript." 

"Your  will  shall  be  done,"  said  the  host,  bowing 
low,  for  he  was  struck  with  awe  at  the  stranger's  voice 
and  demeanor. 

Klotz  sat  down  by  the  chimney  fire  in  solitary 
grandeur,  while  Avshalom  stood  whispering  with  the 
host,  and  told  him  what  Klotz  had  enjoined  him  to 
say.  And  sure  enough,  in  a  little  time  the  tavern 
began  to  fill  with  peasants,  for  this  was  Sunday, 
and  Klotz  had  taken  that  into  account;  and  they  all 
stood  in  the  farthest  corner,  casting  anxious,  sidelong 
glances  at  him,  while  Avshalom  went  amongst  them, 
and  spread  the  tale  of  his  master's  greatness.  More 
and  more  peasants  came,  and  a  hum  of  eager  excite 
ment  surged  through  the  crowd.  What  was  going  to 
happen  ?  What  were  they  going  to  hear  ?  Was  there 
some  new  oppression,  some  new  disability  to  be  laid 
on  them  in  addition  to  those  beneath  which  the  poor 
serfs  already  groaned  ?  And  each  man  looked  anxiously 
at  his  neighbor. 

At  last  the  host  came  forward  on  tiptoe  and  whis 
pered,  "  My  lord,  we  are  assembled," 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SEEFS         385 

Then  Klotz  got  up  leisurely,  threw  back  his  cloak, 
so  that  all  could  see  the  glitter  of  his  sham  stars  and 
crosses,  and  stood  eying  them  disdainfully;  slowly 
and  deliberately  he  unfolded  his  document,  lifted  his 
cap,  and  reverently  kissed  the  great  seal. 

"In  the  name  of  the  Czar,"  he  began,  and  that 
glorious  deep  voice  of  his  seemed  to  travel  into  the 
caverns  of  the  earth,  and  thence  to  reverberate  with 
redoubled  volumes  of  sound;  and  a  tremor  quivered 
through  the  assembly.  "  Whereas'  we  have  decreed, 
in  our  great  mercy  and  in  our  all-pitiful  goodness  of 
heart  to  seek  the  welfare  of  the  peoples  under  our 
dominion:  it  shall  be  established  henceforth  as  a  law 
and  a  statute  unto  all  ages  that  servitude  shall  cease 
amongst  our  subjects,  and  that  every  man  shall  be 
master  of  his  body  and  his  chattels  and  all  that  apper- 
taineth  unto  him;  and  that  it  shall  not  be  lawful  for 
any  Lord  of  Manor  to  claim  tithe  and  tribute  of  him, 
and  the  strength  of  his  sinews  shall  no  more  be 
expended  in  tilling  the  feudal  lands,  but  he  shall  be 
permitted  to  husband  his  own,  and  to  reap  the  labor 
of  his  hands  in  his  own  garner  and  his  own  threshing- 
floor.  And  this  shall  obtain  throughout  the  length 
and  breadth  of  our  rule.  And  herewith  we  send  mes 
sengers  to  proclaim  the  good  tidings  unto  all  such 
whom  it  shall  benefit,  even  in  the  tongue  that  is  sev 
erally  understanded  of  them;  and  we  have  set  upon  it 
the  warranty  of  our  Great  Seal.  Furthermore  we 
make  known  that  whosoever  shall  suffer  violence  or 
encroachment  upon  these  rights,  unto  him  it  shall  be 
given  to  vindicate  them  with  might  and  main,  even 
to  the  wielding  of  arms.  And  in  token  of  this  we 


386  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

authorize  our  messengers  to  enact  a  liberation-tax  of 
one-half  silver  rouble  per  head  of  family,  to  augment 
the  exchequer  of  the  empire.  Long  live  the  Czar." 

Such  were  the  terms  of  the  proclamation;  and  for 
some  time  after  the  reading  the  heavy  hand  of  sur 
prise  lay  on  the  mouths  of  the  listeners  and  kept  them 
mute;  then  there  came  little  ebullitions  of  sound  that 
were  like  the  wind  that  rasps  through  the  trees,  and 
tells  that  the  thunder  is  coming.  But  it  did  not  suit 
Klotz  that  their  feelings  should  find  vent;  it  was  best 
that  their  thoughts  should  remain  cumbered  down  by 
their  unuttered  amazement.  So  in  business-like  tone 
he  continued: 

"  Silence,  all:  quick,  host,  get  me  pen  and  paper — 
for  my  portfolio  was  left  in  my  carriage — so  that  I 
may  write  down  the  names  of  all  who  seek  enfranchise 
ment;  for  these  are  to  be  registered  in  the  archives 
of  the  land  to  be  a  charter  to  them  and  their  children 
and  their  progeny  afterwards ;  and  forget  not  the  tax." 

Then  there  began  a  crush  and  commotion  to  get  to 
the  table  where  Klotz  was  seated,  each  one  striving  to 
be  the  first  enrolled  on  the  list  of  the  emancipated; 
and  those  who  had  no  money  on  the  spot,  either  bor 
rowed  it  from  their  friends  or  from  the  tavern- 
keeper  on  security  of  rings  and  snuff-boxes  and 
such  like.  For  it  had  come  at  last,  the  blessed  hour  of 
freedom,  for  which  they  had  pined  and  whined;  now 
they  would  know  what  life  meant;  now  they  could 
drink  one-half  the  time,  and  idle  half  the  other,  whilst 
their  wives  saw  to  the  potato  crop  and  tended  the  pigs 
— it  was  glorious.  And  the  tax — it  was  that  which 
proved  the  genuineness  of  the  rescript.  Was  there 
ever  a  rescript  issued  for  good  or  ill  whereto  there  did 


THE  MORDECAI  OF  THE  SEKFS         387 

not  hang  an  impost?  So  Klotz  wrote  down  the  name 
and  trade  of  each  man  in  his  turn,  and  Avshalom  raked 
in  the  money;  his  fingers  trembled  a  little,  no  doubt 
on  account  of  the  cold.  At  last  it  was  all  over,  and 
Klotz  got  up,  stretched  himself  mightily,  and  said, 
'  Brothers, — for  we  are  that  now,  brothers  and  peers, — 
I  must  hasten  on  to  carry  the  good  news  further;  and 
when  my  carriage  comes  here,  tell  my  servants  to  seek 
me  on  the  road  to  Minsk.  Let  us  go,"  turning  to 
Avshalom.  "  Health  and  great  riches  upon  you  all." 

With  that  they  passed  out,  and  everybody  stood  out 
of  their  way  with  deep  obeisances,  and  one  or  two  made 
even  bold  enough  to  print  a  kiss  on  the  corner  of  the 
mock  messenger's  cloak. 

"Drive  hard,  for  the  love  of  Heaven,"  whispered 
Klotz;  for  now  that  his  object  was  accomplished,  he 
felt  his  heart  falling  between  his  feet,  and  his  blood 
was  congealed  into  clots  with  fear.  But  as  he  put 
his  foot  on  the  axle,  a  loud  shout  was  heard,  and  a  man 
came  running  towards  them  frantically.  Klotz  and 
Avshalom  turned  pale,  and  looked  at  each  other. 

"  For  mercy's  sake,"  panted  the  man,  when  he  came 
near,  "  do  not  go  before  you  have  added  my  name. 
I  was  belated,  and  my  brother  came  to  seek  me,  lest  I 
and  my  household  should  remain  in  servitude  when 
all  the  others  went  free." 

Klotz  waited  a  moment,  till  his  own  breath  went 
steady  again.  "  What  is  thy  name  ?  "  he  asked  severely. 

"Ivanov  Shleutra,  and  I  am  the  carrion-carter  of 
this  place,  your  Honor." 

"Ivanov,"  continued  Klotz,  "thou  shalt  go  free 


388  STKANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

like  the  rest,  but  for  thy  remissness  the  penalty  shall 
be  one  whole  rouble  over  and  above  the  half." 

And  that  was  a  rouble  on  which  they  had  not 
reckoned;  but  they  thought  that  it  was  more  hardly 
earned  than  all  the  rest  put  together.  And  the  whole 
amount,  as  they  counted  it,  came  to  seventy-three 
roubles  and  a  half,  not  to  mention  the  four  coins  that 
were  spurious.  But  they  did  not  laugh  till  they  were 
again  well  on  the  road  to  Tamalov;  they  had  doffed 
their  disguises  long  ago,  and  when  finally  they  had 
restored  the  horses  and  vehicle  to  their  proper  abode, 
then  only  was  it  that  they  felt  the  rock  of  anxiety 
lifted  from  off  their  bosoms. 

They  had  met  nobody,  for  it  was  the  hour  of  the 
midday  meal,  and  no  one  stirred  abroad,  lest  he  should 
be  cheated  out  of  his  portion  of  the  three-cornered 
meat-dumplings  that  were  the  specialty  of  the  day. 
So  they  walked  on  to  Shaya's  house,  while  Avshalom 
now  and  then  peeped  sideways  at  his  companion,  like 
a  mortal  who  had  long  sojourned  with  a  god  and  known 
it  not. 

When  they  came  in,  dinner  was  finished,  and  all 
the  choristers  were  there,  for  Shaya  had  behaved 
handsomely,  and  had  feasted  them  at  home  that  day; 
and  now  they  sat,  each  for  himself,  taking  stock  of 
the  money  which  that  morning's  questing  had  brought 
him.  The  harvest  had  been  but  scanty.  Some  had  taken 
no  more  than  two  roubles;  but  Klumpka  had  managed 
to  obtain  three  roubles  twenty  copecks  and  a  big  bruise 
on  the  right  side  of  his  forehead.  How  he  came  by 
that  was  not  known;  later  on  it  was  current  that  he 
had  climbed  to  the  garret  of  a  poor  bedridden  cripple, 


THE  MOEDECAI  OF  THE  SERFS         389 

whence  he  would  not  depart  till  the  indignant  neigh 
bors  pitched  him  down-stairs.  Khimpka  denied  the 
report,  but  then,  why  was  he  called  the  "  plate-licker  ?" 

"  Here  come  the  Korahs,  the  wealthy  men,"  he 
jeered,  as  he  caught  sight  of  Klotz  and  Avshalom. 
"  Where  have  ye  quested  ?  In  the  House  of  Everlast 
ing  Life — among  the  tombstones?" 

"Yes,"  said  Klotz,  "the  dead  are  generous,  they 
have  given  me  richly;  listen,"  and  he  jingled  the  silver 
in  his  pocket.  "  Why,  I  can  even  afford  to  give  thee 
five  copecks  to  buy  a  plaster  for  thy  bruise,"  and  he 
threw  the  coin  at  his  feet. 

"  Thou  hast  stolen  it,"  screamed  Klumpka. 

"  Then  wait  till  the  robbed  comes  and  makes  com 
plaint,"  answered  Klotz,  and  busied  himself  among  the 
scraps  and  bones  that  remained  from  the  meal;  he 
was  content,  for  he  knew  that  his  mother  would  have 
better  fare  for  many  a  day  to  come. 

Now,  in  this  adventure  of  Klotz  there  were  several 
things  that  gave  cause  for  wonder.  First  of  all  the 
choristers  wondered  what  danger  it  was  that  Avshalom 
had  escaped  so  that  he  offered  public  thanksgiving  for 
his  deliverance,  and  paid  a  rouble  in  token  of  his  sin 
cerity;  and  further,  where  he  had  obtained  the  rouble. 
Then  Abihu,  Shaya's  groom,  wondered  why,  when  he 
came  to  tend  the  horses,  he  found  them  so  broken- 
winded.  Furthermore,  Klumpka  wondered  who  it  was 
that  had  torn  the  seal  from  his  slaughter-certificate. 
Again,  the  whole  province  wondered  what  spirit  of 
madness  had  come  over  the  peaceful  peasantry  of 
Tarnagov  that  they  should  refuse  their  serf-labor 
when  called  upon  to  do  so  by  the  overseers  and  task- 


390  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

masters,  so  that  the  police  had  to  come  with  staves 
and  blunt  bayonets  to  force  them  to  their  toil,  and 
stop  their  babbling  about  rescripts  and  emissaries  and 
liberty  charters.  And  finally  Klotz  and  Avshalom 
wondered  what  manner  of  Providence  it  could  be  that 
turned  the  evil  that  man  designed  against  man  into 
a  source  of  blessing  and  augmentation. 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE 


A  HAED,  sullen  November  sky.  There  were  no  clouds, 
only  an  expanse  of  untinted  murkiness  massed  thickly, 
impenetrably.  Hour  after  hour  the  impetuous  north- 
wind,  resenting  its  lifeless  monotony,  had  led  his  bois 
terous  battalions  against  it  to  make  it  wince,  until  he 
had  screamed  himself  hoarse  with  anger.  But  the 
black  mass  overhead  lay  there  unmoved  in  leaden 
apathy.  Now  and  then  a  few  drops  trickled  out  of  it. 
Perhaps  it  was  weeping  tears  of  humiliation  that  it 
had  not  been  deemed  worthy  of  a  soul  to  feel  with. 

The  steppe  underneath  was  not  so  badly  off.  At 
least  it  had  been  given  a  voice.  It  spoke  in  the  whim 
perings  of  the  disconsolate  little  grass-blades,  in  the 
whining  of  the  shrivelled  underbrush.  Here  and  there, 
too,  it  had  opened  into  rifts  and  fissures,  like  the  part 
ing  of  lips ;  but  these  were  not  for  speech.  With  them 
the  hard-driven  glebe  drew  its  breath;  for  the  pores, 
which  served  that  purpose  when  the  year  was  more 
propitious,  had  shrunk  and  closed  up  with  the  vice- 
like  cold.  But  between  sky  and  earth  there  hovered, 
as  it  were,  a  spirit  of  kinship,  born  of  the  likeness 
that  stands  out  more  strongly  between  things  un 
sightly  than  between  things  beautiful.  Now,  if  ever, 
they  could  not  mistake  that  they  were  both  the  fash 
ioning  of  the  same  hand,  and  so  took  hope  again  by 


392  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

virtue  of  that  conviction.  Each  was  glad  that  it  was 
not  solitary  in  its  discomfiture. 

As  though  to  reconcile  them  still  more  to  their  ele 
mental  misery,  there  came  a  pageant  of  human  woe, 
a  pomp  of  squalor  and  rags  and  wretchedness.  On  and 
on  it  passed  in  sore-footed,  way-worn  weariness — a 
caravan  of  shadows  which  seemed  to  have  strayed 
from  their  former  selves,  and  were  now  voyaging 
through  the  world  to  find  them.  But  no,  these  were 
not  phantoms.  They  spoke  and  groaned  and  ached; 
and  pain — as  the  dead  clouds  knew — is  the  test  of  life. 
They  felt  their  life  keenly  enough,  these  men,  women, 
and  children;  a  good  many  of  them  had  long  come 
to  the  opinion  that  they  would  not  feel  their  death- 
pangs  so  acutely.  But  they  had  no  choice.  There  was 
just  one  thing  to  do — to  go  on  and  onward  towards 
their  destination,  if  it  pleased  God  they  should  ever 
reach  it.  The  wayfarers  comprised  fifty  Jewish  fam 
ilies,  uprooted  by  a  sudden  ordinance  from  their  home 
steads  in  the  Interior,  and  now  in  transit  to  the  far-off 
Pale  of  Settlement. 

And  so  they  had  been  fighting  the  distance  that  lay 
between  as  one  fights  an  enemy.  Every  verst  they 
covered  -was  a  victory,  every  mile  a  triumph.  But  these 
conquests  had  left  their  mark  on  them  without  and 
within.  They  were  evidenced  in  the  sallow  faces,  the 
huddled  frames,  the  sinewless  limbs.  Yet  they  had 
wrought  their  more  ghastly  work  inwardly.  They  had 
left  the  pilgrims'  heart  beating,  but  that  was  all. 
Each  one  felt  its  own  throes,  but  not  its  neighbor's. 
For  there  is  nothing  more  terrible  than  the  selfish 
ness  of  the  wretched,  whose  motto  has  become:  Every 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         393 

one  for  himself,  and  God  for  us  all.  So  the  palsied 
groups  struggled  on,  each  man  shepherding  his  own 
flock,  and  answering  his  fellow's  cry  of  distress  by 
mockingly  pointing  to  his  own  despair. 

Gregor  Malakof  stood  at  one  of  the  many  windows 
of  his  farm-house,  watching  the  dismal  company  de 
filing  past.  On  his  left  hand  a  huge  wolf-hound  had 
upreared  himself,  front  paws  on  the  ledge,  and  growl 
ing  angrily  at  the  strange  apparitions.  His  tongue 
lolled  out  all  its  length,  because  his  master  held  him 
so  tightly  in  leash.  To  Gregorys  right  was  Marf  a,  his 
widowed  mother.  An  evil  smile  played  about  her  with 
ered  lips. 

"  Suppose  you  let  Kalash  loose  for  a  minute  or  two," 
she  said,  as  the  hound  uttered  a  fiercer  snarl.  And 
when  her  son  remained  silent,  she  went  on :  "  What 
a  stampede  there  would  be  among  the  scarecrows. 
Do,  there's  a  good  boy.  It  is  so  dull  on  the  farm,  I 
haven't  laughed  for  a  long  time." 

The  young  man  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  Your 
eyes  are  playing  you  false,"  he  replied ;  "  these  are  not 
wolves." 

"  No,  not  wolves,  but  worse,"  she  said,  throwing  him 
a  covert  glance  of  vexation.  "  Curses  on  the  Christ- 
slayers.  How  my  heart  leaps  with  pleasure  at  the 
sight;  now  they  feel  as  Christ  felt  carrying  the  cross 
to  Calvary.  Virgin  Mother,  look  on  your  revenge." 

"  If  you  ask  her  to  look,  you  ask  her  to  weep,"  said 
Gregor,  biting  his  lip. 

"  Yes,  with  joy  at  their  misery.  I  know  better;  she 
has  taken  her  woman's  heart  with  her  into  Heaven, 
and  she  remembers  the  crown  of  thorns.  Thorns  into 


394  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

their  eyes,  thorns  into  their  feet,  so  that  they  go  blind 
and  lame.  Look,  Gregor,  how  that  man  there  is  beat 
ing  his  little  boy.  Strike  harder,  Judas,  kill  your 
brood  before  it  can  breed  more  Judases." 

"Mother,  you  talk  like  a  child,"  said  Gregor,  im 
patiently. 

With  a  quick  gesture  she  placed  her  arm  round  his 
neck. 

"  Little  Gregor,  you  are  not  cross  with  me  ?  "  she 
fawned.  "When  you  frown,  darkness  comes  over  my 
eyes.  How  I  love  you,  my  only  one,  my  sole  and  single 

joy." 

"And,  therefore,  you  need  not  vent  all  your  hatred 
on  these  unfortunate  wretches/'  he  said  more  gently. 

"  Not  if  it  displeases  you.  See,  they  have  all  passed 
by.  Tell  me,  are  they  not  accursed,  when  the  mere 
sight  of  them  has  nearly  caused  strife  between  mother 
and  son  ?  " 

"  Let  us  forget  them,"  was  the  quiet  answer;  "  there 
are  pleasanter  things  one  may  remember  than  night 
mares  stalking  about  in  broad  daylight." 

He  bent  forward  and  peered  ahead.  Was  it  to  dis 
engage  himself  from  the  embrace? 

"  What  are  you  looking  at  ?  "  asked  Marf a,  craning 
her  neck. 

"Two  women.  The  younger  is  carrying  the  older 
on  her  back.  They  are  stragglers  from  the  main 
body." 

Marfa's  face  resumed  its  evil  smile.  "Yes,  I  am 
just  beginning  to  see  them.  They  will  never  catch 
the  others  up.  Ugh!  I  should  not  like  to  cross  the 
marsh-valley  with  a  carcass  on  my  shoulders." 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         395 

Gregor  made  no  answer,  but  watched  keenly.  Now 
the  older  woman  had  alighted  on  the  ground,  and  came 
tottering  on,  supported  round  the  waist  by  her  com 
panion's  arm.  Step  by  step  they  picked  their  way  till 
they  were  abreast  of  the  window,  and  then  with  a  lurch 
and  a  thud  the  woman  measured  her  length  in  the 
roadway.  A  wail  of  agony  broke  from  the  girl  as  she 
bent  down  to  raise  her.  Painfully  she  got  her  into  a 
sitting  posture,  and  thence  endeavored  to  hoist  her 
up  again  on  to  her  strong  young  back.  But  the  inert 
limbs  could  not  grip.  Time  after  time  the  girl  made 
the  attempt,  until,  convinced  of  its  futility,  she  threw 
herself  on  her  knees,  and  broke  into  a  fit  of  sobbing. 

With  a  smothered  oath  Gregor  turned  towards  the 
door. 

"  Don't  go  out  to  help  them,"  Marfa  screamed  after 
him ;  "  it's  all  a  comedy,  they  want  us  to  pity  them 
and  give  them  money." 

The  slam  of  the  door  answered  her.  Quickly  Gregor 
secured  Kalash  in  his  kennel,  because  his  presence 
would  not  be  advisable  on  the  scene  of  action.  And 
as  Gregor  came  up  close,  a  glance  told  him  that  this 
was  not  a  matter  of  comedy,  or  at  least  one  in  which 
Death  was  hovering  in  the  side-wings,  impatiently 
waiting  his  call. 

The  girl  looked  up  on  hearing  the  approaching  foot 
steps,  with  a  flicker  of  hope  in  her  eyes.  Perhaps  a 
little  bit  of  God's  mercy  had  lost  its  way  into  these 
desolate  regions. 

"  You  see  what  we  are,"  she  said,  advancing  and 
talking  to  him  in  his  own  tongue ;  "  this  is  my  mother, 
and  we  are  Jewesses.  But  remember  that  without  us 


396  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

you  would  not  have  been  a  Christian.  You  owe  us 
payment  for  that.  Give  us  shelter  for  one  night, 
among  your  cattle— it  does  not  matter.  If  not,  kill 
us  quickly,  and  we  shall  bless  you  with  our  last  breath." 

He  looked  at  her  hard,  but  not  with  the  sort  of  look 
that  should  bring  the  blood  to  an  honest  woman's 
cheek.  Then  silently,  or  rather  with  a  short  gesture 
of  assent,  he  stepped  past  her  to  where  her  mother  was 
watching  him  with  eyes  of  piteous  anxiety.  In  a  mo 
ment  he  had  gathered  her  up  in  his  arms,  gently  and 
skilfully,  as  only  men  of  giant  strength  can  do  these 
things. 

"  Follow  me,"  he  said  to  the  girl. 

So  they  came  to  the  little  avenue  of  elms  leading 
up  to  the  house.  Gregor  entered  the  long,  stone- 
floored  corridor,  and  pushed  open  the  second  door  on 
the  left.  They  stood  in  a  neat,  comfortable  chamber, 
snug  and  homely  despite  its  furniture  of  planed  wood. 
In  a  corner  was  a  pallet  with  pillows  and  covering  of 
eider-down.  The  sick  woman  eyed  it  hungrily.  If  he 
would  only  lay  her  there!  And  as  Gregor  deposited 
her  upon  it,  she  feebly  caught  both  his  hands,  and  had 
covered  them  with  kisses  before  he  could  snatch  them 
away. 

"  See  to  her,"  he  said  to  the  girl,  who  was  looking 
on  dazed;  "  I  shall  be  back  presently." 

As  he  came  out  into  the  passage,  he  caught  sight 
of  Marfa's  head  peeping  out  from  the  doorway  oppo 
site.  He  took  no  notice  of  her,  but  locked  the  chamber 
containing  his  strange  visitors,  put  the  key  into  his 
pocket,  and  walked  on  to  the  hay-loft  at  the  back  of 
the  house.  He  climbed  the  ladder,  and  in  a  minute 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         397 

or  two  was  down  again  with  a  truss  of  straw  on  his 
shoulder. 

At  the  bottom  Marf a  was  waiting  for  him,  her  face 
distorted  with  anger. 

"  You  surely  are  not  going  to  lodge  the  infidels  in 
the  house?"  she  asked  with  fictitious  calm. 

"Yes,  why  not?  The  woman  will  not  live  till  to 
morrow." 

"But  if  you  are  in  your  right  mind,  you  will  not 
expect  me  to  pass  the  night  under  one  roof  with 
them?" 

"There  is  no  compulsion,  mother;  you  will  easily 
find  accommodation  with  one  of  the  tenants  in  the 
village." 

Maria's  eyes  shot  sparks  of  fire.  "Listen,  all  the 
world,"  she  almost  screamed ;  "  the  son  is  turning  his 
mother  out  of  house  and  home  for  the  sake  of  two 
vagabond  hussies ! " 

"The  son  is  bidding  his  mother  follow  her  own 
pleasure,"  echoed  Gregor;  "can  a  son  be  more  duti 
ful?" 

"  Have  you  no  pride  of  your  own  ? "  she  went  on 
venomously.  "  The  descendant  of  two  score  landed 
gentlemen  is  making  a  pack-ass  of  himself,  as  if  he 
had  not  a  single  farm-hand  on  his  estate.  And  for 
whom?  I  can  hear  your  father  gnashing  his  teeth  in 
heaven." 

"  You  have  good  ears,"  said  Gregor,  drily.  "  As 
for  the  men,  they  have  their  own  work,  and  quite 
enough  of  that.  This  charge  I  have  made  mine  en 
tirely,  unless  you  care  to  help  me." 

Before  she  had  time  to  frame  a  reply,  he  had  fixed 


398  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

his  load  more  securely,  and  was  striding  off.  Softly 
he  let  himself  into  the  chamber,  and  slipped  the  truss 
on  the  floor. 

"  This  is  all  I  can  do  for  you  by  way  of  a  couch," 
he  said  to  the  girl,  who  was  chafing  her  mother's  hands; 
"in  that  cupboard,  though,  you  will  find  a  bear-rug 
to  keep  you  warm  in  the  night.  And  now  you  will 
want  food." 

He  locked  the  room  as  before,  walked  into  the 
kitchen,  and,  unconcerned  at  the  curious  glances  of 
the  maid-servants,  possessed  himself  of  a  wheat-loaf 
and  a  jug  of  milk.  When  he  came  back,  the  woman 
had  fallen  into  a  heavy  slumber,  and  her  breath  came 
short  and  irregular.  He  scarcely  had  need  to  look  at 
the  ashen  pallor  of  her  face  to  know  what  that  be 
tokened.  The  girl  sat  by  her  side,  seemingly  uncon 
scious  of  all  save  that  her  mother  slept. 

"  Eat,"  he  said,  setting  the  victuals  before  her. 

"I  must  wait  till  mother  can  eat  as  well,"  she 
replied. 

He  checked  the  impulse  to  utter  what  was  on  his 
tongue,  and  instead  urged  her  again.  This  time  she 
acquiesced.  He  watched  her  in  silence.  He  noted 
she  was  younger  than  she  had  appeared  at  first  sight. 
The  tense  misery  of  her  face  had  relaxed,  and  now  it 
showed  pure  oval,  with  all  the  sharp  edge-lines  softened 
into  curves.  The  dull  film  had  drawn  off  from  her 
eyes,  so  that  they  shone  like  a  mirror  cleansed  of  its 
cobwebs.  Her  hair,  too,  had  taken  to  itself  a  sabler 
tint,  and  framed  her  temples  with  a  flashing  darkness. 
He  had  guessed  at  the  potentialities  of  that  face  as  he 
first  saw  it  glorify  the  drab  and  dreary  roadside  into 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         399 

something  like  a  garden-walk ;  but  he  had  not  expected 
that  it  would  consummate  itself  so  quickly,  and  leave 
no  further  margin  for  perfection.  And  now  he  knew 
why  that  feeling  of  awe  was  upon  him.  Nature  was 
boundless,  infinite,  and  he  had  been  privileged  to  look 
upon  one  of  her  limits. 

Meantime  she  was  eating,  at  first  mechanically,  as 
though  only  in  deference  to  his  bidding;  but  soon  her 
hunger  asserted  its  claims,  and  insisted  on  being  grati 
fied  on  its  own  merits.  Suddenly  she  recollected  an 
omission. 

"  I  have  not  thanked  you,"  she  said. 

"  What  for  ?  You  asked  me  to  cancel  a  debt,  and 
I  have  done  so." 

"  The  whole  world  repudiates  it,"  she  remarked  bit 
terly,  "  and  you " 

"  And  I  am  redeeming  it  from  the  charge  of  in 
gratitude,"  he  broke  in;  she  knew  not  whether  in  jest 
or  earnest.  "  You  seem  to  have  had  sad  experiences ; 
you  must  have  suffered  much,"  he  went  on. 

"More  than  the  others;  I  have  suffered  for  two," 
she  said  with  a  glance  at  the  form  on  the  pallet.  "  She 
has  not  slept  in  a  bed  for  sixteen  days." 

"  Why  have  you  come  by  this  route  ?  Why  did  you 
not  go  by  rail  ?  " 

"Because  we  did  not  have  enough  money  for  the 
fare.  We  were  driven  out  at  three  days'  notice,  and 
that  did  not  leave  us  time  to  sell  our  homes.  Besides, 
who  would  buy  when  he  knew  that,  after  very  little 
waiting,  he  would  be  able  to  go  and  lay  his  hands  on 
whatever  pleased  his  eyes?  No  one  is  so  unthrifty. 
And  so  we  packed  together  what  we  could  carry  in 


400  STRANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

clothes  and  more  valuable  belongings,  and  went  out 
with  God  in  our  hearts,  and  little  money  in  our  pock 
ets.  But  what  we  had,  served  us  for  food  and  shelter 
— of  a  kind — up  to  the  present ;  and  now  I  understand 
we  are  only  two  days'  journey  from  our  destination. 
However,  we  have  set  four  graves  for  sign-posts  to 
show  the  road  we  came." 

Gregor  was  thinking  there  would  probably  be  a  fifth 
soon,  but  he  kept  that  to  himself. 

"I  am  glad  I  happened  to  be  at  home,"  he  said, 
"I  had  business  elsewhere,  but  I  sent  somebody  in 
stead." 

The  girl  did  not  echo  him.  She  found  nothing 
strange  in  the  lucky  chance;  did  she  not  say  they  had 
gone  out  with  God  in  their  hearts?  And  if  she  did 
not  give  as  much  thought  to  her  host's  kindness  as  it 
deserved,  it  was  for  the  same  reason.  One  is  not 
beholden  to  the  tool,  but  to  the  artificer. 

However,  she  was  quickly  reminded  of  her  default. 
The  woman  on  the  couch  stirred,  and  stretched  out  her 
hand  as  though  groping  through  darkness. 

"  Rachel,"  she  said. 

The  girl  leapt  up;  her  mother's  voice  had  become 
strangely  husky,  and  it  was  only  with  difficulty  that 
she  caught  the  words  that  followed: — 

"  If  the  Gentile  comes,  tell  him  I  have  left  him  my 
blessing.  I  should  have  been  ashamed  to  enter  Para 
dise,  had  I  died  in  the  open  air  like  a  beast  of  the 
field." 

"Why,  what  are  you  saying?"  queried  Rachel,  in 
painful  wonder.  "  The  Gentile  is  here — don't  you  see 
him?*1 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         401 

"  What  a  pity  we  cannot  take  this  copper  caldron 
away  with  us,"  went  on  the  husky  voice;  "  it  belonged 
to  my  mother  before  me,  and  would  have  been  yours — 
an  honest,  clean  caldron,  and  now  the  gendarme's 
wife  will  boil  pig's  flesh  in  it.  But  it  was  too  heavy. 
Yes,  tell  the  Gentile  I  have  blessed  him." 

Rachel  turned  round  despairingly,  but  Gregor  had 
gone  out.  Five  minutes  afterwards  was  heard  the 
sound  of  horse-hoofs  galloping,  and  presently  he  came 
back. 

"  I  have  sent  for  a  doctor,"  he  said  quietly;  "  if  only 
he  comes. soon  enough." 

But  he  knew  well  that,  however  soon  the  doctor 
came,  it  would  still  be  too  late.  And  so  it  was.  About 
midnight  Kalash  broke  out  into  furious  barking, 
which  gradually  thinned  off  into  an  abject  whine. 
It  is  said  that  four-footed  things,  not  having  an  im 
mortal  soul,  are  condemned  to  see  that  which  is  merci 
fully  concealed  from  human  eyes.  For  that  was  the 
time  when  the  Shadow  of  Death  entered  at  the  gate 
on  his  errand  to  the  woman  upon  the  pallet. 


n 

Gregor  saw  to  the  burial  arrangements — it  could 
hardly  be  called  a  funeral.  By  the  following  afternoon 
the  plain  deal-box  was  in  readiness,  and  two  sturdy 
farm-hands  carried  it  to  the  grave  which  had  been 
dug  outside  the  fence  that  encompassed  the  estate 
on  the  north  side.  Rachel  followed,  and  at  a  little 
distance  Gregor  brought  up  the  rear.  At  first  he  had 
thought  of  doing  the  sexton  work  all  by  himself,  but 


402  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

in  the  end  he  changed  his  mind.  He  did  not  want  her 
to  recollect  him  as  the  man  who  buried  her  mother. 
The  grief-stricken  are  not  always  over-generous  in 
their  impressions.  And  her  grief  was  of  the  selfish 
sort,  showing  no  tear  and  making  no  clamor,  as  though 
it  had  frozen  in  her  heart. 

And  so  she  watched  the  men  silently  at  their  work, 
and  when  the  grave  had  grown  into  a  hillock,  she 
turned  quietly  away.  In  a  moment  Gregor  was  beside 
her. 

"If  you  like,  I  shall  harness  four  horses,  and  in  a 
few  hours  you  will  catch  up  with  your  people,"  he  said. 

She  paused  a  moment  in  thought,  and  then  forced 
the  words  to  her  lips: 

"  You  already  have  many  servants,  but  perhaps  you 
can  make  use  of  one  more.  Set  me  your  humblest 
task,  make  me  your  meanest  drudge,  I  shall  be  con 
tent;  only  let  me  sit  each  day  for  a  little  time  by 
my  mother's  grave." 

He  looked  astonished,  incredulous,  and  then  his  eyes 
lit  up. 

"  What,  you  want  to  stay  here  ?  "  and  he  bent  down 
to  get  his  answer  from  her  face,  as  well  as  from  her 
words. 

"  As  your  meanest  servant,"  she  repeated. 

He  straightened  himself.  "No,  I  cannot  permit 
that,"  came  from  him  sharply.  "Not  as  my  servant," 
he  went  on,  as  he  saw  her  face  fall,  "as  my  guest. 
That  is  my  condition.  You  shall  come  and  go  as 
pleases  you.  Your  word  shall  be  a  command  as  much 
as  mine,  and  woe  to  the  one  who  disobeys.  I  am 
master  here." 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         403 

Kachel  gazed  dumbly  before  her;  then  she  shivered. 
He  noted  the  shiver. 

"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Your  mother  came  into  the  room  this  morning," 
was  her  reply ;  "  she  said  nothing,  but  oh,  how  she 
looked  at  me!  If  only  she  had  spoken  her  curses,  and 
not  looked  them." 

"  You  fear  my  mother  ?  "  he  put  in  quickly.  "  I 
admit  she  does  not  take  kindly  to — to  strangers," — 
she  knew  what  his  hesitation  meant, — "  but  if  you  will 
trust  a  man's  word,  you  need  have  no  fear  of  any  one's 
hatred,  loud  or  silent." 

"  True,  you  may  protect  me  against  your  mother," 
she  said  pensively. 

"Well?"  he  urged. 

She  made  no  answer,  but  the  flush  of  maiden  mod 
esty  spoke  her  thought  clearly  enough. 

"  You  mean,  who  will  protect  you  against  me,"  he 
said.  "I  understand.  As  my  servant,  my  pride  of 
place  will  be  your  safeguard.  As  guest  and  equal,  you 
think " 

There  was  a  momentary  silence,  and  then  she  looked 
at  him  fearlessly  as  she  said:  "I  shall  be  my  own 
safeguard.  At  the  worst  there  will  be  occasion  for 
another  grave  beyond  the  fence." 

So  Eachel  stayed  on  at  the  farm.  She  had  taken 
clear  counsel  with  herself  on  the  point.  She  would 
remain  there — unless  she  were  told  to  go  before — she 
would  remain  until  she  could  trust  herself  to  leave  the 
spot,  where  her  mother's  last  breath  hovered,  without 
also  leaving  behind  her  heart,  her  reason,  her  faculties 
of  life.  And  that  after  all  was  but  the  ignobler  view; 


404  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

there  was  another,  far  more  cogent.  What  would  her 
mother  think  if  she  went  away  at  once  ?  Would  it  not 
seem  she  had  but  waited  to  be  relieved  of  the  burden, 
to  see  how  quickly  her  young  feet  could  carry  her 
unencumbered?  No,  this  mother  of  hers  deserved  a 
little  more  tending,  a  little  more  watching.  The 
desolate  steppe  was  but  sorry  company  for  the  living 
— how  much  more  for  the  dead  ?  The  only  thing  that 
had  given  her  pause  at  first  was  her  host.  What  if  his 
generosity  meant  more  than  lay  on  the  surface  ?  And 
then  she  recollected  she  had  answered  that  question 
herself.  But  if  she  had  still  further  need  of  reassur 
ance,  she  had  not  long  to  wait  for  it.  The  day  after 
the  funeral  she  found  the  little  hillock  encased  in 
massive  slabs  of  granite. 

"  It  is  not  meant  so  much  for  a  monument,"  he 
explained  to  her,  almost  in  tones  of  apology,  "  but  the 
winter  sometimes  drives  the  wolves  as  far  as  the  vil 
lages,  and  then  all  is  grist  that  comes  to  their  molars." 

After  that  Rachel  knew  he  could  be  trusted. 

Since  then  five  weeks  had  gone  by.  Rachel  had 
become  more  or  less  an  institution,  but  that  was  all 
the  difference  her  presence  made  to  her  surroundings. 
She  lived  through  the  days  aimlessly,  dividing  her 
time  equally  between  her  room  and  the  steppe.  With 
the  lapse  of  time  the  sense  of  her  loss  and  loneliness 
came  home  to  her  more  fully,  and  steeped  her  in 
lethargy  that  numbed  all  desire  of  spontaneous  action. 
She  accepted  her  life  as  one  accepts  the  inevitable; 
she  knew  that  sometimes  Gregor  came  and  talked  to 
her,  and  that  she  answered  him — what  or  how  seemed 
immaterial.  But  through  it  all  she  was  clearly  con- 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         405 

scions  of  the  man's  word  he  had  given  her:  he  had 
not  uttered  an  idle  boast,  he  was,  indeed,  master  in 
his  house.  No  one  molested  her,  no  one  made  bold 
to  ask  questions.  Not  even  Marfa.  She  obeyed  her 
son's  injunction  thoroughly  enough.  If  she  never 
spoke  to  Eachel  in  anger,  it  was  because  she  never 
spoke  to  her  at  all.  Whenever  the  two  met,  Marfa 
walked  past  with  averted  head,  so  that  Eachel  never 
saw  the  malice  looming  from  her  eyes.  And,  there 
fore,  her  heart  gave  a  sudden  leap  when  one  day  Marfa 
stopped  her  in  her  course. 

"  What  was  your  father  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  A  tanner/'  replied  Rachel,  making  her  answer  ring 
pleasant. 

"You  lie,  he  was  a  beggar,  and  so  was  his  father 
before  him;  for  if  there  were  not  beggar's  blood  in 
your  veins,  you  would  not  be  content  to  eat  the  bread 
of  idleness  at  the  hands  of  a  stranger." 

And  then  she  walked  on,  with  a  more  springing  step 
than  Rachel  had  ever  seen  in  her.  Yes,  those  words 
must  have  lain  upon  her  heavily. 

Rachel,  too,  felt  their  weight  as  she  pondered  over 
them  in  her  solitude;  and  from  there  she  took  them 
to  Gregor. 

"  I  must  go  from  here,"  she  told  him. 

He  dropped  the  curry-comb  he  was  carrying. 

"  Why  ?  "  he  asked,  stooping  to  pick  it  up. 

"  Because  it  has  just  come  into  my  mind  that  I  am 
eating  the  bread  of  idleness  at  the  hands  of  a  stranger." 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  ?  "  he  asked  in  a  curious  tone, 
which  seemed  half  pain,  half  anger. 

"  I  should  not  have  gone  for  a  little  while,  but  the 
thought  is  lashing  me  forth." 


406  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

He  turned  away,  consulting  with  himself. 

"  And  suppose  there  is  a  way  by  which  that  which 
is  yours  now  by  favor  would  become  yours  by  right?" 

"What  way  could  that  be?"  she  queried,  bewil 
dered. 

"  Marry  me." 

She  hung  her  head  sadly.  It  was,  indeed,  time  she 
should  go;  an  abomination  she  was  already,  and  now 
she  had  become  a  jest  as  well. 

"  You  are  startled/'  he  continued,  "  and  yet  I 
thought  I  had  prepared  you  for  it  sufficiently.  Per 
haps  you  did  not  see  because  your  eyes  were  blinded 
with  your  sorrow." 

"  I  saw  nothing,"  she  said  simply. 

"Then  you  shall  hear  now.  From  the  moment  I 
saw  you,  I  knew  I  should  love  you.  I  shall  not  dis 
semble.  I  am  no  saint;  it  was  not  mere  charity  that 
made  me  pity  you.  My  heart  felt  hungry  for  love. 
I  had  looked  round  me,  but  I  found  no  one  who  might 
satisfy  it,  till  you  came.  And  therefore  I  would  not 
let  you  pass  by,  because  I  know  that  Providence  is  no 
prodigal." 

"But  it  is  impossible,"  she  said,  her  perplexity 
growing. 

"Why  is  it  impossible?"  His  tone  was  almost 
harsh. 

"Your  God  is  different  to  mine." 

"What  if  He  is?  Let  them  fight  it  out  among 
themselves  which  of  them  is  right.  We,  too,  shall 
know,  when  our  time  comes.  Till  then,  let  us  take 
our  Paradise  beforehand.  Keep  your  God,  but  give 
me  your  heart." 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         407 

"Keep  my  God,"  she  echoed;  "you  say  that  easily. 
How  could  I  ?  You  know  the  law  of  the  land,  which 
says  that  the  Christian  who  marries  a  woman  of  my 
race,  unless  she  turns  proselyte,  lays  himself  open  to 
terrible  penalties.  Would  it  be  requiting  your  kind 
ness  if  I  allowed  you  to  hurl  yourself  into  peril  on  my 
account?  Ah!  and  you  do  not  know  how  strange  and 
unreal  seem  to  me  your  gorgeous  images,  your  cruci 
fixes,  your  droning  priests,  and  your  bending  of  knees." 

Gregor  heard  her  with  eager  hopefulness.  She  was 
arguing,  and  her  argument  was  half  surrender. 

"  You  mean  you  hate  them,"  he  replied ;  "  you  need 
have  no  compunction  in  saying  so.  To  me  as  well 
they  are  not  an  indispensable  delight.  I  will  not  admit 
more.  Look,  I  am  not  asking  for  such  a  great  thing. 
If  your  own  belief  is  strong  in  itself,  surely  it  will  not 
take  harm  from  a  reverence  or  two  before  a  crucifix, 
or  a  few  drops  of  water  from  the  font.  I  desire  your 
pretending  these  things  only  because  that  will  make 
you  my  wife  incontestably,  and  leave  your  position 
assured,  should  anything  happen  to  me.  Why,  when 
you  have  done  with  the  priest,  go  straight  to  your 
chamber,  and  make  your  peace  with  the  God  of  your 
belief." 

"And  will  my  conscience  make  peace  with  me?" 
she  queried. 

"  Why  not  ?  You  are  not  the  first  of  your  race  who 
has  given  tribute  to  circumstance.  Have  you  not 
heard  of  your  people  in  Spain  and  the  Inquisition  ?  " 

"  But  they  were  redeemed  by  their  necessity." 

"And  are  you  not  redeemed  by  yours?"  he  asked 
quickly.  "Tell  me,  when  you  go  from  under  my 


408  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

roof,  do  you  know  where  next  you  will  find  shelter  ? 
Suppose  I  refuse  to  lend  you  my  horses,  suppose  I 
refuse  to  equip  you  for  your  journey;  do  you  think 
you  will  live  to  set  your  foot  across  another  threshold  ? 
Would  that  be  pleasing  to  your  God,  or  does  your  creed 
not  count  suicide  amongst  its  sins  ?  Think  well — self- 
murder  is  not  martyrdom." 

Rachel  stood  pensive,  her  eyes  seeking  the  distant 
horizon.  He  was  right;  before  she  had  gone  only  as 
far  as  her  eyes  could  reach  now,  she  might  be  dead  ten 
times  over.  No,  she  did  not  want  to  go  hence;  it 
was  horrible  to  die  in  the  desert — her  mother  had 
dreaded  it,  too.  And,  again,  if  she  survived,  would  it 
not  be  worse?  She  would  find  no  rest;  her  heart 
would  be  ever  dragging  her  back  to  this  spot.  Once 
she  went  away,  God  knew  if  she  would  ever  again  set 
eyes  on  the  granite-decked  hillock  by  the  fence.  This 
house  was  home  to  her,  her  mother's  spirit  per 
meated  it.  It  was  here  her  mother's  soul  would  come 
to  seek  her;  and  if  it  did  not  find  her,  it  would 
wander  about  searching  for  her,  and  in  the  end  per 
haps  miss  its  way  back  into  heaven.  Oh,  she  knew 
the  transgression  it  would  be  to  wed  this  Christian; 
and  yet  had  her  mother  not  blessed  him?  Such  a 
blessing  would  sanctify  a  parricide,  and  the  man  who 
now  pleaded  with  her,  for  her,  should  be  hallowed 
in  her  eyes.  « 

"I  shall  try  to  recompense  your  faith  in  me,"  she 
said,  turning  to  him ;  "  if  I  can  add  one  grain  to  your 
contentment " 

"  One  grain  ?  "  he  broke  in  fiercely,  "  a  thousand 
grains,  a  million,  a  granary  full;  oh,  my  heart's  de 
sire!" 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         409 

The  vast  courtyard  was  empty;  only  Kalash  was 
scrutinizing  them  keenly  from  his  kennel,  and  just 
then  he  set  up  a  furious  howl,  for  the  strange  woman's 
body  was  strained  closely  against  his  master's.  Was  it 
for  this  he  had,  in  this  same  master's  rescue,  bitten 
those  three  wolves  to  death  only  last  winter,  that  she 
should  now  come  and  do  him  grievous  hurt,  while  he 
himself  was  uselessly,  impotently,  tugging  at  his  chain  ? 

"Now  I  feel  strong  enough  for  anything,"  said 
Gregor,  releasing  her;  "  I  shall  go  and  tell  my  mother." 

"  Would  that  I  could  help  you,"  she  said. 

"You  have  done  your  share  already;  I  must  do 
mine." 

Quickly  he  disappeared  into  the  house.  Marfa  was 
sitting  in  her  room,  darning  socks  in  pretended  un 
concern. 

"The  tale-bearer,"  she  muttered,  as  she  saw  him 
enter;  "  she  has  told  him.  Now  there  will  be  thunder. 
Very  well;  my  wheels,  too,  do  not  always  turn  on 
greased  axles." 

"Mother,  I  have  something  to  say  to  you,"  began 
Gregor. 

"  I  kriow— about  her,"  said  Marfa,  jerking  her  head 
defiantly. 

"  You  know?  "  asked  Gregor,  taken  aback.  "  I  have 
only  just  come  to  know  it  myself." 

"Know  what?" 

"  That  she  is  going  to  be  my  wife." 

Marfa  showed  her  crooked,  yellow  teeth;  it  made 
one's  own  ache  to  look  at  them. 

*  Your  wife  ?  You  mean  before  God,  as  the  saying 
goes." 


410  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Gregor  frowned.  "And  before  the  world,  too — my 
lawful  wife.  We  have  surmounted  all  difficulties.  She 
will  turn  Christian." 

"  Is  that  the  only  difficulty?  "  asked  Marfa. 

"  I  can  think  of  no  other  that  should  count." 

"  Then  why  have  you  told  me  ?  " 

"Because  I  thought  you  might  like  to  know  that 
you  have  two  children  now  instead  of  one." 

Marfa  waited,  although  she  had  her  answer  ready. 

"  She  is  standing  outside,  mother.  Go  and  tell  her 
you  are  glad. 

"It  is  true  I  have  always  longed  for  a  daughter," 
was  Marfa's  answer;  "but  sooner  than  have  such  a 
one,  may  I  go  childless  to  the  grave." 

"As  you  please,  mother,"  said  Gregor,  turning  on 
his  heel. 

But  before  he  had  reached  the  door,  he  felt  her 
agonized  grip  on  his  arm;  she  was  on  her  knees. 

"By  the  redemption  of  the  crucified  One,  do  not 
put  this  shame  on  me,"  she  wailed;  "do  not  set  an 
accursed  thing  in  the  place  I  have  made  holy.  Cast 
the  pollution  from  out  your  doors.  I  knew  an  evil 
spirit  had  entered  the  house  as  soon  as  I  saw  her. 
She  has  woven  impious  spells  around  you;  she  has  put 
this  wayward  desire  into  your  bosom  to  work  destruc 
tion  for  us  both.  She  will  cajole  your  heart  from  me, 
and  unless  you  requite  my  love  I  shall  die." 

"If  you  loved  me,  as  you  say,  you  would  not  have 
cursed  me." 

"Forgive!  I  was  frenzied  with  despair.  It  is  all 
her  doing;  do  you  not  see  the  ruin  working  already? 
Tell  me  if  you  have  cause  for  complaint  in  anything. 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         411 

Are  you  lacking  in  your  comfort  ?  Do  you  want  better 
ministering?  I  shall  leave  my  bed  with  the  sun,  and 
not  return  to  it  before  midnight,  and  all  the  hours 
shall  be  spent  in  your  service.  Does  that  content  you  ? 
Send  her  away — no,  I  shall  not  rise  till  you  have 
promised." 

"  Stand  up,  mother,"  he  said. 

She  bounded  up  instantly;  there  was  no  mistaking 
the  manner  of  his  bidding. 

"Am  I  not  an  obedient  parent?"  she  said  scath 
ingly.  "And  now,  pray,  go  to  her,  and  say  you  have 
seen  me  grovelling  at  your  feet,  that  I  have  talked 
my  mother-heart  dry,  and  yet  your  ears  remained 
empty.  Tell  her  I  have  wrestled  with  her  for  my  son, 
and  that  her  witchcraft  was  stronger  than  my  throes 
of  prayer.  Yes,  tell  her  this,  and  when  she  pauses 
in  the  midst  of  her  wanton  kisses  and  her  lecherous 
looks,  let  her  laugh  and  make  merry  over  my  defeat. 
But  tell  her  this  as  well:  I,  too,  can  laugh.  Hark,  I 
am  laughing  now:  you  can  take  that  as  my  blessing 
on  your  wedlock." 

Gregor  listened  to  the  peals  of  frantic  merriment 
that  jangled  with  each  other  like  the  clangings  of  fis 
sured  bells,  and,  amid  all  his  terror,  he  felt  a  sort  of 
tumultuous  joy.  No  one  could  now  gainsay  his  claim 
to  his  wife;  he  had  bought  her  dearly  at  the  price  of 
his  mother's  laughter. 

Eachel,  too,  heard  it  outside.  She  knew  not  what 
it  betokened,  but  she  clapped  her  hands  to  her  ears, 
and  wondered  if  the  sound  of  it  would  travel  as  far 
as  the  grave  by  the  fence.  And  then  she  was  more 
glad  than  ever  of  the  granite  slabs  that  armored  and 
made  it  impenetrable. 


412  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Such  was  the  betrothal  between  Rachel  and  Gregor, 
quiet  and  without  ostentation.  Whoever  knew  of  it 
was  welcome  to  the  knowledge,  and  could  pass  it  on  or 
keep  it  to  himself.  Nor  did  Marfa  speak  of  it;  she 
carried  her  mad  jealousy  about  with  her  in  sullen 
silence.  Only  when  it  threatened  to  choke  her,  she 
unbosomed  herself  to  old  Bastian,  who  had  been  her 
husband's  right  hand,  and  was  now  a  sort  of  major- 
domo. 

"Did  you  think/'  she  would  ask  him,  "did  you 
think  it  would  come  to  this,  that  when  the  young 
master  chose  his  wife,  we  should  have  to  make  a  secret 
of  it,  for  fear  of  shame  and  ridicule  ?  " 

And  Bastian  would  shake  his  head,  and  from 
clenched  teeth  grind  out  curses  on  the  heathen  inter 
loper  who  had  made  havoc  of  his  own  hopes ;  for  Bas 
tian  had  himself  a  daughter,  and  he  had  thought  his 
master's  choice  would  be  different. 

But  the  lovers  gave  no  heed  to  Marfa's  silence,  nor 
suspected  Bastian's  curses.  They  did  not  know  that 
as  often  as  not  Marfa  was  crouching,  greedily  eaves 
dropping,  outside  the  room  where  they  were  holding 
converse— perhaps  because  she  took  delight  in  tortur 
ing  herself  thus.  One  day,  however,  she  overheard 
something  that  made  her  ears  grow  twice  their  length 
with  curiosity.  Amid  the  words  of  her  own  language 
came  interspersed  sounds  of  a  strange  tongue,  which 
Rachel  enunciated  and  Gregor  repeated.  It  seemed 
they  were  going  through  a  lesson;  now  and  then  Rachel 
called  on  Gregor  to  recite  what  she  had  taught  him; 
it  ^ was  just  a  verse  which  one  might  utter  at  a  stretch 
without  having  to  draw  breath  twice.  It  was  a  long 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         413 

time,  though,  before  he  knew  it  without  flaw  or  hitch, 
and  more  than  once  he  excused  himself  by  saying  it 
was  because  he  paid  more  attention  to  the  teacher  than 
to  her  teaching.  But  at  last  he  had  it  pat,  and  then 
Eachel  said  quite  solemnly: 

"  Now  I  am  ready  for  the  priest." 

That  did  not  enlighten  Marfa  much;  but  at  any 
rate  it  did  not  come  to  her  as  a  surprise  when  she 
spied  them  going  down  to  the  village  chapel  the  fol 
lowing  afternoon;  and  although  they  were  in  their 
everyday  attire,  she  knew  they  would  return  as  man 
and  wife. 

An  hour  after  Gregor  and  Rachel  stood  before  her. 

"  We  thought  it  best  not  to  trouble  you,  mother," 
Gregor  was  saying.  "  Why  conceal  it  ?  You  have 
never  made  a  secret  of  your  displeasure;  your  heart 
was  not  in  my  choice.  And  so  we  have  not  asked  your 
company  on  our  way  to  the  altar,  because  you  might 
have  thought  we  were  deriding  you.  You  should  be 
grateful  to  us  for  sparing  you  that  thought.  Show 
that  you  are,  by  one  kind  word  to  my  bride." 

For  answer  Marfa  stepped  to  the  window,  and  turned 
her  back  on  them. 

"  Say  something,"  repeated  Gregor.  And  when  her 
silence  continued,  he  took  Rachel  by  the  hand,  and  led 
her  out.  And  yet  Marfa  would  have  given  a  year  of 
her  life,  could  she  have  asked  them  one  question — the 
meaning  of  that  strange-tongued  utterance  of  yester 
day.  But  she  never  knew,  for  it  was  quite  a  private 
arrangement  between  Rachel  and  Gregor,  and  concerned 
no  one  else.  It  was  a  whim  of  hers,  and  Gregor  was 
not  in  the  mood  to  withhold  her  anything.  So,  di- 


414  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

rectly  they  had  left  Marfa's  presence,  they  took  their 
way  to  the  little  vault  by  the  fence,  and  there,  by 
her  mother's  grave,  Gregor  placed  a  plain  gold  hoop 
on  the  first  finger  of  KacheFs  right  hand,  as  slowly 
and  clearly  he  pronounced,  in  the  grand  old  Bible- 
tongue,  the  immemorial  marriage  formula: 

"  Behold,  thou  are  consecrated  unto  me  by  this  ring 
as  a  wife,  according  to  the  Law  of  Moses  and  of  Israel." 


Ill 

It  was  the  morning  after  the  marriage  when  Gregor 
came  to  his  mother,  and  told  her  she  must  give  up  the 
keys  of  the  household.  Marfa  became  purple  as  she 
asked  his  reason. 

"  You  know  the  custom  of  our  house  as  well  as  I," 
he  replied;  "the  keys  are  kept  by  the  wife  of  the 
ruling  squire." 

"  How  do  you  know  she  will  not  lay  hold  of  all  that 
is  valuable  and  make  off  to-morrow  morning?"  in 
quired  Marfa. 

"As  a  matter  of  fact  I  don't  know,"  he  answered, 
"but  I  take  the  risk  of  that.  And  for  another  thing 
I  would  ask  you  never  again  to  forget  that  she  is  my 
wife,  whatever  she  was  before." 

"  You  may  put  a  padlock  on  my  lips,  but  not  on  my 
thoughts,"  said  Marfa,  defiantly.  The  next  moment 
she  regretted  her  words;  they  were  imprudent.  Still 
her  exasperation  might  be  counted  to  excuse  much. 
But  henceforth  she  would  be  cautious. 

"  Think  what  you  like,"  said  Gregor,  in  answer  to 
her  defiance,  "  but  first  give  me  the  keys." 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         415 

Marfa  unfastened  the  belt  from  which  they  dangled 
in  a  bunch.  Gregor  nodded  approvingly  as  he  took 
them. 

"  It  is  much  better  so,  mother.  Make  the  best  of 
things  as  they  are.  A  soft  heart  begets  a  soft  heart. 
We  ask  of  you  nothing  but  to  let  us  love  you." 

"  And  therefore  you  do  your  best  to  humble  me." 

"A  harsh  word,  mother;  and  even  if  it  were  true, 
there  is  kindness  in  it.  So  you  know  from  the  start 
that  my  wife  takes  precedence  over  you.  It  will  save 
you  disappointment  hereafter." 

Just  then  the  door  opened,  and  Bastian  stepped  in. 

"  By  the  way,"  went  on  Gregor,  turning  to  him, 
te  I  noticed  this  morning  that  you  passed  my  wife  with 
out  taking  off  your  cap  and  making  a  reverence.  If 
that  happens  again,  I  shall  order  you  to  go  bareheaded 
for  the  rest  of  the  winter.  Think  of  my  words, 
mother." 

He  went  out,  and  left  Marfa  and  Bastian  looking  at 
each  other. 

"What  did  he  tell  you  to  think  of?"  asked  Bastian, 
at  last. 

"  Something  that  should  make  me  dance  with  joy," 
answered  Marfa,  balef ully,  "  something  that  will  come 
to  me  in  my  sleep  with  dreams  of  delight;  the  Jew- 
girl  first,  and  I  second.  But  don't  grudge  me  my  pleas 
ure;  he  has  given  you,  too,  something  to  keep  in  mind." 

"Yes,  if  I  do  not  crawl  before  her,  it  will  be  with 
frozen  ears  that  I  shall  listen  to  the  twitter  of  the 
birds  next  spring." 

They  were  silent  for  a  while,  and  then  their  eyes 
met,  and  each  knew  what  the  other's  brain  harbored. 


416  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  You  speak  first,"  said  Marf a ;  "  you  are  the  man." 

"  But  your  hurt  is  the  sorest,"  replied  Bastian. 

And  Marfa  spoke. 

Three  days  after  Gregor  had  to  go  to  the  winter 
fair,  fifteen  miles  off,  to  make  purchases.  He  started 
early,  and  took  his  swiftest  horses,  but  even  thus  he 
could  not  be  back  much  before  midnight. 

An  hour  after  he  had  gone  Marfa  remarked  to  Bas 
tian: 

"  I  think  there  is  no  time  like  the  present." 

"Everything  is  ready,"  answered  the  latter;  "by 
act  of  Providence  I  forgot  to  give  Kalash  his  supper 
last  night,  and  he  had  no  breakfast  this  morning;  he 
would  eat  his  own  mother.  One  of  the  links  in  his 
chain  is  very  loosely  riveted;  just  a  little  provocation, 
and  one  does  not  know  what  he  may  do." 

And  Bastian  laughed,  as  if,  after  all,  he  had  a  pretty 
shrewd  idea  what  form  Kalash's  action  would  take. 

"  Call  her,"  said  Marfa. 

A  minute  or  two  later  Eachel  came  in,  surprised  and 
diffident. 

"  You  sent  for  me,"  she  said. 

Marfa  did  not  answer  immediately;  her  nether-lip 
twitched  as  if  she  found  it  hard  to  contain  her  emotion. 
Then  she  took  Rachel's  hand. 

"You  seem  to  find  it  strange,"  she  began;  "shame 
on  me  that  you  should.  Hear  me.  I  have  considered 
what  I  am  doing — how  I  am  undermining  the  happi 
ness  of  my  house,  how  I  am  alienating  from  me  my 
Bon,  and  thrusting  away  a  daughter's  love.  I  have  be 
gun  to  feel  cold  and  strange  at  my  own  hearth,  and 
the  fault  is  mine,  and  mine  only.  So  I  would  make  it 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         417 

good  before  it  grows  beyond  atonement.     Or  is  it  too 
late  already?" 

Marfa  lifted  her  eyes;  they  were  wet.  Rachel's  own 
filled  at  the  sight.  She  had  never  heard  of  crocodile's 
tears. 

"  Too  late,  mother?  Nothing  is  too  late  till  .a  heart 
throb  after  death;  and  we  have  a  good  while  to  live  yet. 
Aye,  it  will  be  a  new  life  for  you  and  all  of  us.  You 
shall  never  feel  cold  again.  I  shall  be  always  nigh, 
and  my  heart's  warmth  shall  make  yours  glow.  As  for 
Gregor,  we  two  shall  make  common  cause  to  strew  his 
path  with  flowers,  to  smooth  from  his  brow  the  wrinkles 
that  come  to  a  man  in  the  affairs  of  life  by  our  joint 
love-service — not  in  the  rivalry  that  halves  the  effect, 
but  in  the  fellowship  that  doubles  it.  And  then  you 
will  only  begin  to  know  how  good  it  is  to  be  a  mother/' 

Marfa  plucked  her  hand  from  Rachel's,  which  had 
become  too  fervid  in  its  clasp. 

"  How  mistaken  I  have  been  in  you,"  she  said,  "  and 
yet  I  should  have  trusted  Gregor;  his  feelings  could 
not  lead  him  far  astray.  However,  all  that  is  done 
with;  there  only  remains  for  me  to  seal  our  reconcilia 
tion.  I  must  prove  to  you  I  am  in  earnest.  I  have  not 
given  you  a  marriage -gift.  You  shall  see." 

She  turned  to  the  wardrobe,  and  took  from  among  its 
contents  a  cotton  frock,  dyed  crimson,  such  as  the 
better  class  of  the  women  in  those  parts  affect. 

"  It  is  yours,"  she  said,  holding  it  out  to  Rachel;  "  it 
will  make  a  brave  show,  and  will  set  off  your  beauty  as 
nothing  else." 

Rachel  smiled  with  pleasure,  but  presently  her  mien 


418  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

changed,  and  she  became  disconcerted.  The  garment 
exhaled  a  stale,  foetid  odor. 

"  Quick,  on  with  it,"  exclaimed  Marfa,  briskly;  "  I 
am  dying  to  see  how  it  becomes  you.  You  must  wear 
it  all  day,  and  greet  Gregor  in  it  when  he  comes  home 
to-night;  then  he  will  not  need  words  to  tell  him  what 
has  happened." 

And,  while  speaking,  she  stripped  Rachel  of  the 
frock  she  was  wearing,  and  forced  the  other  upon 
her.  Rachel  offered  no  resistance,  because  she  was 
afraid  of  offending  Marfa  by  giving  token  of  the  dis 
taste  she  felt  for  her  gift.  Marfa  stepped  back  to  look 
at  her;  then  she  shook  her  head  in  dissatisfaction. 

"  It  is  so  dark  in  this  room,  and  the  tint,  for  all  I  can 
see,  might  be  a  drab  yellow,  instead  of  this  costly  car 
mine.  Ah,  I  have  it!  Just  go  out  into  the  courtyard, 
and  walk  down  the  length  of  it,  and  then  we  shall  see 
what  color  the  sunlight  will  paint  it.  I  shall  watch 
here  from  the  window." 

Rachel  gladly  fell  in  with  the  suggestion.  The  noi 
some  exhalation  was  no  trick  of  her  fancy.  It  became 
stronger  with  each  breath  she  drew.  Probably  it  was 
some  pungent  disinfectant,  which  had  preserved  it  from 
the  moths,  and  which  the  clear,  frosty  air  would  quickly 
dissipate.  A  moment  after  she  was  outside,  looking 
up  at  Marfa,  who  nodded  approvingly.  With  a  smile — 
for  her  heart  was  in  the  thing — Rachel  strolled  past,  on 
parade  as  it  were,  on  towards  Kalash's  kennel.  As  she 
came  within  five  yards  of  it,  she  saw  the  hound  struggle 
to  his  feet,  and  yap  hungrily,  as  he  snuffed  the  air 
with  quivering  nostrils.  Rachel  stopped  wonderingly. 
As  a  rule  the  animal  greeted  her  with  a  whine  of  pleas- 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         419 

ure;  perhaps  it  was  the  flaunting  color  that  now  dis 
quieted  him.  She  took  a  step  forward  to  pacify  him, 
but  the  menacing  howl  that  assailed  her  made  her 
shrink  back  aghast.  Suddenly  he  became  very  still, 
his  body  stiffened,  and  his  eyes  grew  blood-rimmed,  and 
then  with  a  furious  onset  he  hurled  himself  forward  all 
the  length  of  his  chain.  He  alighted  within  half  a 
yard  of  Rachel's  feet.  Terrified  she  turned  to  retrace 
her  steps.  Two  more  tugs  like  that,  and  Kalash  would 
break  either  his  chain  or  his  neck — it  was  as  likely  the 
chain.  But  when  she  came  to  the  door  she  found  it 
closed.  She  tried  the  latch — it  would  not  work;  no 
doubt  the  rusty  old  thing  had  caught  somehow.  How 
ever,  she  heard  Marfa  come  shuffling  down  the  passage; 
in  a  moment  or  two  she  would  be  safe  enough.  And 
the  danger  was  urgent — Kalash  had  become  frantic. 
Two  stout  wisps  of  straw  had  got  twined  about  his  feet, 
and  the  new  impediment  infuriated  him  beyond 
bounds. 

"  Quick,"  whispered  Rachel,  "  the  chain  cannot  hold 
much  longer." 

She  heard  Marfa  puffing  and  panting  on  the  other 
side,  but  she  did  not  seem  to  be  making  much  headway. 

"Quick,  quick,"  urged  Rachel.  "0  God,  he  is 
loose!" 

"  Christ's  mercy,"  shrieked  Marfa,  "  I  have  got  my 
finger  jammed  in  the  lock,  and  cannot  move.  Run! 
run  to  the  outhouses;  if  not,  you  are  lost — lie  has  gone 
mad! " 

Rachel  stared  stupefied  at  the  ravening  brute.  The 
chain  lay  snapped,  but  he  was  still  struggling  with  his 
fetters  of  straw,  which  he  had  writhed  into  a  hopeless 


420  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

tangle.  That  was  her  chance.  If  she  could  get  out  by 
the  gate  and  slam  it,  she  might  reach  the  corn-shed 
before  he  had  time  to  vault  the  palisade.  But  when 
she  had  got  half  way,  she  felt  him  behind  her.  She 
heard  the  rattle  of  the  broken  links  and  the  swish  of 
the  trailing  straw,  and  presently  she  caught  also  his 
hard-drawn  breath  whistling  in  little  yelps  of  anger. 
Yet  through  it  all  another  sound  struck  her  ears — a 
sound  of  rumbling  wheels  and  galloping  horses.  Per 
haps  that  meant  deliverance,  and  with  the  fleetness 
which  death  gives  to  its  own  quarry,  she  flung  forward, 
dashed  past  the  gate,  and  out  into  the  open  road.  And 
the  next  instant  she  felt  two  hairy  paws  upon  her 
shoulder,  a  bristly  tongue  rasped  against  her  cheek, 
and  then  a  voice  she  did  not  immediately  recognize 
roared:  "  Down,  Kalash,  down/' 

Down  went  the  hairy  paws,  and  the  great  brute 
cringed  whimpering  on  the  ground.  And  from  that 
Eachel  knew,  even  without  looking,  who  it  was  that 
had  saved  her. 

"What  is  this?"  asked  Gregor,  stepping  up  to  her 
and  catching  her  round  the  waist.  His  face  was  white, 
and  his  voice  hoarse,  as  if  that  one  shout  had  broken 
its  strength. 

Between  her  sobs  Eachel  gave  an  account  of  what 
had  happened,  and  as  Gregor  listened  his  brows  came 
low  down  over  his  eyes. 

"  And  if  I  had  not  forgotten  my  money-belt,  I  should 
have  come  home  to  find  you  in  twenty  pieces,"  he  said 
at  last.  "  Twenty  pieces,"  he  repeated,  as  if  there  were 
some  deep  cause  for  the  repetition.  His  eyes  fell  on 
Kalash.  The  brute  crouched  low,  panting  and  whin- 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         421 

ing,  and  now  that  he  saw  his  master's  gaze  upon  him, 
he  crept  forward  inch  by  inch,  rubbed  his  head  against 
Gregorys  top-boots,  and  peered  up  piteously  into  his 
face.  But  Gregorys  look  did  not  soften  at  these  signs 
of  contrition.  He  thought  hard  for  a  moment,  and 
then  said:  "Come,  Kalash." 

So  he  walked  to  the  middle  of  the  yard,  his  arm  still 
supporting  Eachel,  and  Kalash  following  abjectly  at 
his  heels.  Outside  Marfa's  window  he  stopped. 

"  Turn  round  the  other  way  for  a  moment,"  he  told 
Rachel.  She  obeyed  without  giving  a  thought  to  what 
he  meant.  Immediately  there  was  a  loud  report,  and 
as  she  started  round,  she  saw  Kalash  motionless  on  his 
side,  with  a  big  hole  in  his  forehead. 

"  Oh,  why  did  you  kill  him?  "  she  moaned.  "  Did  you 
not  tell  me  you  owe  him  your  life?" 

"  I  owe  him  mine,  but  he  nearly  took  yours  in  pay 
ment,"  said  Gregor,  pocketing  his  still  smoking  re 
volver.  "  That  cancels  the  debt,  and  I  wanted  to  make 
sure  he  would  not  offend  again." 

Just  then  something  caught  his  attention. 

"What  is  this  smell?"  he  asked,  stooping  down  and 
bringing  the  hem  of  her  frock  close  to  his  face.  Then 
his  eyes  dilated,  and  he  gnashed  his  teeth. 

"  As  I  thought;  poor  brute,  it  wasn't  your  fault  after 
all,"  he  muttered,  casting  a  swift  glance  at  Kalash; 
"you  could  not  help  protesting  that  blood  was  never 
meant  to  be  used  as  a  dye." 

And  then  he  said,  raising  his  voice  curiously: 

"  I  must  tell  my  mother  not  to  give  you  any  more 
presents." 


422  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

IV 

"  Sleep,  baby,  sleep, 
Tour  father  minds  the  sheep ; 
Tour  mother  minds  the  cooking-pot. 
Sleep,  baby,  sleep." 

So  sang  Rachel  to  her  three-months-old,  rhythmic 
ally  dandling  it  in  her  arms.  The  said  baby  listened 
attentively  to  these  barefaced  attempts  on  its  wakeful- 
ness,  and  rewarded  them  by  opening  its  eyes  to  their 
widest.  And  then,  having  raised  its  potential  eyebrows 
as  far  as  they  would  go,  it  broke  into  a  smile  of  derision. 
But  Rachel  evidently  considered  this  as  a  compliment 
to  her  powers  of  song,  to  judge  by  the  way  she  pressed 
the  nondescript  bundle  to  her  heart,  and  rained  kisses 
on  the  little  lips. 

"  What  about  my  turn?  "  asked  Gregor,  who  watched 
the  pair  from  a  little  distance. 

"There — just  one;  she  says  she  does  not  like  your 
kisses;  they  taste  too  much  of  hair,"  jested  Rachel, 
holding  the  child  up  to  him. 

"  Her  mother  thinks  differently,  at  any  rate,"  replied 
Gregor,  as  he  took  his  turn,  and  too  much  of  it. 

"You  flatter  yourself,"  retorted  Rachel,  smilingly; 
"  she  only  acts  differently." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  her,  if  her  actions  do  not 
coincide  with  her  thoughts.  And  for  punishment  it 
will  be  a  long  time  before  she  will  again  have  the  chance 
of  being  inconsistent." 

"  Not  so  long  as  a  year,"  she  said,  raising  her  face 
to  his. 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         423 

He  waved  her  off.  "  Your  thoughts  are  yours,  and 
my  kisses  are  mine/'  he  said. 

"  Keep  them,  they  are  not  worth  asking  for  twice." 

"  And  therefore  you  shall  ask  three  times." 

"  Asking  for  kisses  makes  them  sour." 

"  Does  it?  "  he  queried  anxiously.  "  And  I  hate  vin 
egar." 

And  so  he  took  immediate  precaution  to  forestall  the 
contingency  against  which  she  had  warned  him. 

Marfa  sat  at  the  further  end  of  the  room,  plying  her 
knitting  needles.  The  horn  spectacles  over  her  beaked 
nose  gave  her  the  aspect  of  an  owl,  nor  did  the  expres 
sion  of  face  with  which  she  from  time  to  time  regarded 
the  group  by  the  fire  do  much  to  enhance  her  beauty. 
When  it  came  to  the  kissing  episode,  she  got  up  and 
went  out. 

A  long  silence  followed  her  exit.  Gregor  stared  into 
the  blaze,  wondering,  as  he  did  frequently,  what  had 
made  his  father  depart  so  far  from  local  traditions  as 
to  build  the  heating  apparatus  in  the  shape  of  an  open 
hearth  instead  of  the  customary  glazed  brick  structure. 
Then  he  looked  at  Eachel,  and  it  struck  him  that  he, 
too,  had  considerably  deviated  from  local  traditions. 
And  Gregor  hoped  he  had  inherited  the  good  fortune 
of  his  father,  who  had  never  been  known  to  express 
dissatisfaction  with  his  experiment.  So  far  there  was 
no  reason  to  doubt  it, 

Rachel  was  musing  on  Marfa's  exit. 

"Your  mother  has  not  yet  taken  me  to  her  heart," 
she  said  at  last. 

Gregor  did  not  answer;  had  he  done  so,  it  would  have 
been  only  to  question  his  mother's  possession  of  a  heart. 


424  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  She  was  kind  to  me  just  once/'  went  on  Rachel, 
reflectively,  "  the  day  she  gave  me  the  red  frock,  and 
I  heard  you  speak  to  her  so  harshly;  perhaps  that  was 
what  made  her  turn  cold  again." 

"  I  don't  know;  I  have  not  asked  her,"  replied  Gregor, 
curtly. 

"  I  did,  once,  and  her  answer  was  such  that  I  have 
never  put  her  a  question  since." 

"  I  can  hear  Feod»r  with  the  horses/'  said  Gregor,  get 
ting  up  with  alacrity,  as  though  glad  of  the  diversion. 

"  Can  you  not  go  another  day?  " 

"No,  I  have  put  it  off  as  long  as  I  could;  each  day 
we  get  nearer  the  spring  the  price  of  the  sheepskins 
falls.  In  another  week  or  two  I  should  have  to  give 
them  away,  only  to  be  rid  of  them." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  you  must  go,"  she  sighed;  "look, 
baby,  look  at  poor  daddy  going  away,  from  the  beautiful 
fire  out  into  the  cruel  snow,  and  leaving  us  all  alone. 
Never  mind;  we  shall  tell  each  other  stories,  and  the 
time  will  pass  more  quickly;  but  not  quickly  enough/' 
she  went  on,  looking  up  at  her  husband. 

"  I  shall  hurry,  you  can  be  sure,"  he  replied. 

"Yes,  because » 

"Well?" 

"  Because — don't  laugh — I  feel  afraid.  I  dreamt 
three  nights  in  succession  that  I  was  wearing  that  red 
frock,  and  Kalash  had  broken  his  chain." 

Gregor  wrinkled  his  forehead.  "  Dreams  are  stupid/' 
he  said;  "  at  best  they  are  a  bad  habit,  and  my  wife 
must  not  have  any  bad  habits." 

"I  shall  never  dream  again  so  long  as  I  live,"  said 
Rachel,  timidly.  Gregor  had  spoken  to  her  somewhat 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         425 

harshly;  was  it  because  he  did  not  like  to  be  reminded 
that  he  had  Kalash  on  his  conscience?  Outside  the 
horses  were  neighing  and  rattling  their  collars. 

"  So  then,  till  to-morrow  night,"  said  Gregor,  his 
voice  softening  down  again  into  its  old  tenderness; 
"and  if  you  are  good  and  take  care  of  baby,  I  shall 
perhaps  bring  you  a  present." 

"  Then  you  may  as  well  give  it  to  me  at  once,"  she 
answered,  smiling. 

"  This  will  do  for  a  guarantee,"  he  said  as  he  kissed 
her. 

Long  after  she  heard  the  vehicle  clatter  out  of 
the  courtyard,  Eachel  sat  and  gazed  into  the  roaring 
blaze.  She  was  thinking  how  happy  she  was.  And 
the  proof  of  her  happiness  was  that  she  could  think 
of  it,  gauge  and  fathom  it,  without  feeling  shame  or 
fear.  In  all  these  months  there  had  not  come  to  her  a 
single  misgiving,  not  a  throb  of  contrition  at  what  she 
had  done.  And  that  was  a  sure  sign  that  God  had 
forgiven  her,  and  her  only  way  of  showing  herself 
grateful  was  to  accept  her  happiness  and  feel  it  to  the 
full.  Now,  too,  she  saw  the  purport  of  Marfa's  enmity. 
Marfa  was  the  saving  clause  in  her  decree  of  fate,  re 
deeming  her  lot  from  the  too  utter  perfectness  which 
the  human  heart  is  not  wide  enough  to  house.  And, 
therefore,  she  must  pray  henceforth  that  the  edge  of 
Marfa's  malice  should  never  become  blunt,  so  long  as 
it  remained  but  a  sharp  sword  sawing  the  air. 

The  opening  of  the  door  interrupted  her.  Old  Bas- 
tian  looked  in. 

"The  spinners  from  the  village  are  here,"  he  an 
nounced. 


426  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"  Why  do  they  not  come  when  my  husband  is  at 
home?"  asked  Rachel. 

"  They  did  not  know  master  was  going  away;  but  I 
can  tell  them  to  come  another  time." 

Rachel  was  in  a  dilemma.  The  task  of  checking  the 
flax  and  paying  for  it,  as  well  as  the  weighing  out  of 
more  raw  material,  would  take  at  least  half  an  hour; 
and  if  she  attended  to  it,  she  would  have  to  leave  her 
baby  to  look  after  itself  all  that  time,  for  it  was  madness 
to  think  of  carrying  it  out  with  her  into  the  draughty 
flax-barn  right  across  the  further  end  of  the  yard.  On 
the  other  hand,  if  she  sent  the  spinners  away,  the  poor 
old  women  would  have  to  make  the  toilsome  journey 
twice  over,  and  in  addition  wait  two  whole  days  for  the 
sorry  pittance,  which  no  doubt  was  urgently  needed. 
And  then  again  she  would  please  Gregor  by  showing 
him  how  well  she  administered  his  affairs,  and  what  a 
trusty  deputy  he  left  on  the  estate  during  his  absence. 

This  last  decided  her.  "  Tell  them  to  wait— I  am 
coming,"  she  answered  Bastian. 

The  baby  had  at  last  yielded  to  the  temptations  of 
the  lullaby,  and,  from  past  experience,  was  good  for 
at  least  a  two  hours'  sleep.  Rachel  tucked  it  snugly 
into  the  wicker-cot,  without  noticing  that  a  shoe  had 
slipped  from  one  of  the  tiny  feet,  and  had  fallen  some 
little  way  from  the  cradle.  And  then,  after  a  long  look 
at  the  child,  she  went  out. 

After  an  interval  of  two  minutes  Marfa  came  in,  her 
face  white  and  her  teeth  set.  For  a  moment  she  lis 
tened  anxiously ;  then  she  stepped  quickly  to  the  hearth, 
snatched  from  it  a  flaring  brand,  and  placed  it  close  to 
the  baby's  cot.  She  paused  at  the  door  till  she  had 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         42? 

seen  the  tentacles  of  flame  grip  the  flimsy  wickerwork 
so  that  they  would  no  longer  relax  their  hold,  and  then 
she  hurried  away.  This  time  the  sharp  sword  had  not 
fallen  on  empty  space. 

Eachel  finished  her  work  in  less  time  than  she  had 
anticipated.  As  she  got  back  into  the  corridor,  a  pre 
sentiment  of  evil  came  floating  towards  her  on  wings  of 
noisome  air.  But  when  she  got  into  the  room,  it  took 
her  some  little  time  to  understand  the  meaning  of  the 
black,  charred  horror  that  stared  at  her  from  among 
sickening  fumes.  And  when  at  last  she  comprehended, 
she  went  to  pick  up  the  baby  shoe,  which  lay  where  it 
had  dropped,  and  quietly  placed  it  in  her  bosom. 

Gregor  came  home  late  the  following  afternoon,  and 
found  Rachel  watching  by  the  little  coffin. 

"  They  have  put  it  in  there — that  is  all  I  know/7 
was  her  only  answer  to  all  his  inquiries. 

Then  he  went  to  Marfa;  he  came  upon  her  stealthily, 
with  his  eyes  in  ambush  to  note  her  first  look  as  she 
caught  sight  of  him.  Her  features  were  bronze. 

"  How  it  occurred  ?  "  she  echoed,  her  voice  matching 
her  mien.  "Had  I  been  there,  it  would  not  have  oc 
curred  at  all;  and  since  I  was  not,  why  do  you  ask  me?  " 

"  Perhaps  a  spark  jumped  from  the  fire  and  lighted 
on  the  cradle,"  suggested  Gregor,  watching  her  as 
before. 

"Perhaps,"  she  replied. 

"  She  must  have  left  the  room  when  it  happened." 

"  I  do  not  keep  count  of  her  comings  and  goings." 

"  But  did  you  hear  nothing — see  nothing?  " 

"  Nothing  beyond  what  everyone  else  heard  and  saw; 
but  perhaps  Bastian  did." 


428  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

"Bastian?" 

"  So  he  says;  but  I  should  not  have  any  ears  left,  if 
I  listened  to  the  maunderings  of  every  old  fool." 

Gregor  stepped  out,  and  presently  returned,  dragging 
Bastian  after  him. 

"  Now  tell  me  what  you  told  my  mother,"  he  said. 

"I  have  nothing  to  tell,  master/'  whined  Bastian, 
"indeed,  nothing." 

"  Speak,  before  I  squeeze  it  from  your  throat." 

"  Master,  I  cannot — it  is  too  terrible." 

"Then  it  will  amuse  me;  I  like  hearing  of  terrible 
things.  Now  take  a  long  breath  and  begin." 

Bastian  looked  questioningly  at  Marfa;  but  Marfa 
shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  turned  away. 

"  Well,  then,  it  was  yesterday  afternoon,"  said  Bas 
tian,  with  apparent  recklessness;  "the  spinners  had 
come  up  from  the  village  with  their  work,  and  I  went 
to  tell  the  mistress,  and  she  answered  she  would  be 
with  them  presently.  I  had  just  got  to  the  end  of  the 
passage,  when  I  thought  of  another  message  I  had  for 
her;  so  I  went  back,  and  as  I  opened  the  door " 

Bastian  paused,  and  put  his  hand  to  his  eyes. 

"  Never  mind  the  pantomime,"  said  Gregor;  "  take  a 
longer  breath." 

"  As  I  opened  the  door,  there  stood  the  mistress,  with 
her  back  to  me,  waving  her  arms  and  droning  a  strange, 
weird  tune,  while  the  cradle  crackled — and  then  I  ran 
from  the  horror  of  it.  But  I  know  it  will  pursue  me 
till  I  die,  and  after." 

Gregor  came  close  to  him;  in  his  hand  he  held  the 
silver  crucifix  he  had  detached  from  the  wall. 

"  Kneel  and  swear,"  he  said. 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         429 

That  was  a  thing  Bastian  had  not  bargained  for.  He 
was  to  jeopardize  his  salvation,  but  then  the  danger  of 
instant  death  excused  much.  Moreover,  the  fact  that 
he  was  forswearing  himself  to  the  destruction  of  an 
infidel  might  count  for  something;  he  also  believed  in 
the  efficacy  of  wax  tapers.  And  so  he  swore. 

But  it  was  not  so  much  Bastian's  oath  that  impressed 
Gregor  with  the  possible  truth  of  his  story;  it  was  a 
vague  misgiving  of  his  own  that  struggled  up  from  his 
consciousness  quite  suddenly,  as  though  the  seed  of  it 
had  there  lain  dormant,  and  had  only  been  waiting  for 
the  quickening  impulse,  no  matter  whence  it  came.  It 
struck  him  with  the  force  of  a  revelation:  what  if  his 
love  had  really  made  him  blind?  What  if  she  was  not 
all  he  saw  in  her,  all  she  pretended  to  be?  His  mem 
ory  caught  at  the  words  she  had  uttered  but  yesterday: 
that  she  felt  otherwise  than  she  acted.  True,  she  had 
said  it  in  a  jest,  but  might  it  not  as  well  be  the  perverse 
defiance  of  deceit,  which  flaunts  itself  recklessly  before 
the  eyes  it  has  hoodwinked?  And  that  roused  in  him 
the  quick  sensitiveness,  the  instinct  of  alarm,  the  un 
reasoning  fear  which  are  bred  by  a  life  of  loneliness — • 
and  what  loneliness  is  there  like  that  of  the  steppe? 
And  then,  having  found  his  trail,  he  tracked  it  relent 
lessly.  He  walked  back  by  himself  all  the  length  of 
way  he  had  travelled  in  her  company,  and  beneath  his 
footsteps  sprang  up  the  weeds  of  distrust,  coiled  them 
selves  round  his  feet,  and  made  him  stumble.  And  at 
last  he  stood  again  before  the  terrible  mystery  which 
he  had  made  his  starting-point.  "What  was  he  to  do? 
How  was  he  to  reach  the  truth?  Tax  her  openly  with 
Bastian's  story?  Well,  she  would  disclaim,  remon- 


430  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

strate,  disarm  his  suspicion  by  her  passionate  denials. 
There  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  that;  it  would  only 
put  her  on  her  guard.  No,  he  must  wait  and  watch; 
he  must  lull  her  into  security,  and  then,  in  some  un 
guarded  moment,  she  would  betray  herself. 

So  he  waited  and  watched;  and  after  not  many  days 
there  reached  him  the  first  intimation  that  his  watchful 
ness  would  not  remain  without  issue.  A  change  was 
coming  over  Rachel.  In  the  days  immediately  succeed 
ing  the  child's  death,  she  had  sought  his  company,  had 
nestled  against  him  for  comfort,  as  she  made  it  appear, 
although  preserving  a  persistent  silence  as  to  the  occur 
rence.  But  before  long  her  mood  veered  round.  She 
availed  herself  less  and  less  often  of  his  presence,  even 
letting  slip  the  most  obvious  occasions,  and  when  she 
could  not  possibly  avoid  him,  she  submitted  to  the  neces 
sity  with  ill-disguised  constraint.  And  so  the  time  came 
when  he  felt  her  shrink  from  his  embrace,  and  her  lips 
puckered  beneath  the  pressure  of  his  own,  as  at  the 
touch  of  white-hot  iron.  Gregor  followed  the  grada 
tions,  followed  them  with  a  cruel  joy  that  made  his 
heart  leap  in  throbs  of  agony.  Now  only  he  came  to 
know  how  much  he  loved  her — by  the  lust  of  hatred 
which  her  recoil  aroused  in  him.  He  revelled  to  see 
that  look  of  fearful  apprehension  in  her  eyes;  and  there 
fore  he  redoubled  his  kisses,  because  he  knew  the  only 
way  to  kill  his  love  was  to  kiss  it  dead. 

But  it  was  not  Rachel's  fault  that  she  shrank  from 
her  husband;  it  was  due  to  the  visitor  that  called  on 
her  night  after  night.  No  sooner  had  she  closed  her 
eyes  in  sleep,  than  she  saw  her  baby  close  by  her 
pillow.  She  not  only  saw,  she  also  heard  it.  It  was 
saying — quite  distinctly: 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         431 

"  Mother,  my  little  shoe,  my  little  shoe/' 

And  so  it  would  go  on  importuning,  till  Eachel  awoke 
to  stare  in  frozen  horror  into  the  pitiless  gloom,  which 
was  but  as  the  mirror  wherein  she  might  see  the  re 
flection  of  her  ineffable  terror.  And  out  of  the  dark 
ness  she  carried  it  with  her  into  the  daylight;  it  hovered 
before  her  eyes  amid  the  sun-motes;  it  rang  in  her  ears 
above  the  spring-benedictions  of  the  birds — that  thin 
piping  voice  begging  for  its  little  shoe.  And  she  could 
tell  nobody  of  it,  least  of  all  her  husband.  She  had 
not  forgotten  his  hard  words  when  she  had  narrated 
him  her  dream  about  Kalash,  and  the  tale  of  this 
strange  apparition  would  certainly  find  small  grace  with 
him.  Even  if  he  were  not  angry  with  her  over  it,  he 
might  see  in  it  no  evidence  of  her  love,  in  that  she  did 
not  spare  him  the  knowledge  of  her  tribulation. 

And,  therefore,  she  cooped  it  up  within  herself,  hop 
ing  that  it  was  but  an  hallucination  of  the  moment,,  the 
creation  of  her  overwrought  brain,  which  could  be 
crushed  out  of  existence  by  mere  force  of  will.  So 
she  fought  against  it  with  frenzied  strength,  till  she 
felt  bruised  and  broken,  as  though  she  had  been  butting 
her  soul  against  a  wall  of  stone.  And  when  that  availed 
nothing,  she  sat  herself  down,  in  the  resoluteness  of 
her  despair,  to  think  out  calmly,  quietly,  the  meaning 
of  the  prodigy,  and  to  trace  the  voice  it  had  taken  to 
itself  back  to  the  cause  that  gave  it  speech;  else  she 
could  never  hope  to  silence  it.  "My  little  shoe — my 
litle  shoe! "  Oh,  to  catch  the  inner  drift  of  it! 

And  one  day,  when  her  desire  for  light  had  driven 
her  to  the  pitch  when  conjecture  turns  into  prophecy, 
it  all  came  to  her  in  a  flash  of  inspiration.  She  recol- 


432  STEANGEES  AT  THE  GATE 

lected  dimly  a  tradition  current  among  her  people,  the 
tradition  which  had  taken  rank  as  a  sacred  ordinance, 
that  in  case  of  persons  killed  hy  fire  everything  that 
appertained  to  the  charred  remains  must  likewise  be 
consigned  to  the  grave.  And  though  the  baby-shoe 
had  by  accident  escaped  destruction,  its  rightful  place 
was  with  its  dead  owner.  Yet  all  the  time  Eachel  had 
carried  it  in  her  bosom,  the  memento  of  the  short-lived 
mother- joy  she  had  tasted.  And  now  her  child  had 
come  to  claim  its  own,  and  to  rebuke  her  for  her 
selfishness.  But  Eachel  did  not  stop  there.  She  felt  this 
was  not  the  only  import  of  the  message  from  the  dim 
Beyond.  It  was  not  intended  to  remind  her  only  of 
this  one  observance  she  had  transgressed,  but  of  the 
entire  code  of  laws  and  precepts  she  had  broken 
through,  of  her  people  from  whom  she  had  severed  her 
self,  of  the  jealous  God  she  had  forsaken,  when  she 
knelt  to  the  idols  made  of  human  hands,  however  much 
it  had  been  only  in  appearance.  So  her  retribution 
had  found  her  after  all;  she  had  thought  her  happiness 
was  a  barricade  which  her  conscience  could  never  scale. 
And  now  it  was  wreaking  its  vengeance  on  her  more 
fiercely  for  having  been  kept  so  long  at  bay.  It  up 
braided  her  with  having  preferred  a  chance  refuge  to 
the  sheltering  wings  of  her  nation's  Providence;  it  cried 
shame  on  her  f  aint-heartedness,  which  had  set  at  naught 
the  example  of  centuries.  And  finally — ah,  there  its 
sting  was  sharpest! — it  asked  her: 

"  What  answer  will  you  make  to  your  mother?  " 
Eachel  did  not  know,  but  she  began  to  think — at 
once,  for  she  did  not  know  how  many  years  it  might 
take  her  to  fashion  a  reply  to  that  query. 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         433 

That  was  how  she  came  to  shrink  from  her  husband. 
He  was  the  embodiment  of  her  sin.  As  he  had  been 
her  temptation,  so  he  now  was  her  reproach.  But  if 
she  trembled  at  his  embraces,  if  his  endearments  made 
her  shudder,  it  was  only  with  fear,  with  a  terrifying 
sense  of  the  forbidden.  He  was  still  the  same  to  her — 
her  all  in  all;  but  because  she  had  bartered  everything 
she  had  possessed  in  exchange  for  him,  she  must,  for 
that  very  reason,  look  on  him  as  unlawful  property. 
And  the  pain  of  that  thought  stung  her  into  rebellion. 
No,  she  did  not  want  to  be  told  of  her  oft'ence;  she 
would  not  have  her  conscience  make  havoc  of  her 
peace  of  heart;  she  wanted  to  be  happy,  happy  as  she 
had  been  before;  happy  though  the  world,  aye,  and 
the  next  world,  too,  perished  over  it.  It  was  the  little 
shoe  that  had  begun  the  mischief;  well,  she  would  bury 
this  little  shoe,  and  with  it  the  spectre  that  was  haunt 
ing  her;  bury  it  so  deep  that  it  could  not  possibly  have 
a  resurrection. 

And  so  it  came  that,  a  little  while  after,  Marfa  had  a 
curious  story  to  tell  her  son,  when  he  returned  home 
after  a  full  day's  absence. 

"  I  heard  her  creep  out  in  the  dead  of  night,"  she  told 
him,  "  and  then  I  called  Bastian,  and  together  we  fol 
lowed  her.  First  she  went  to  the  tool-house,  and  tried 
to  enter,  but  it  was  locked.  After  that  she  crossed  over 
to  the  timber-shed,  and  from  there  she  took  a  long,  flat 
log,  and  passed  out  by  the  gate.  Cautiously  we  tracked 
her,  all  the  way  to  the  cemetery.  And  when  she  had 
come  to  the  child's  grave,  she  commenced  to  burrow 
busily,  but  because  of  the  clumsy  implement  she  could 
not  get  very  far,  and  at  last  she  flung  herself  down,  and 


434  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

tore  ravenously  at  the  soil  with  her  hands.  Did  I  not 
tell  you  she  was  an  evil  spirit?  And  now  she  wants 
to  dig  up  what  is  left  of  the  little  angel  she  has  killed, 
and  use  it  for  her  rites  and  incantations  to  bring  de- 
;struction  on  us  all.  Last  week  one  of  the  bulls  gored 
his  own  heifer — is  that  not  a  sign  ?  And  at  Michaelmas- 
tide — although  I  would  not  tell  you  of  it — the  witches 
flew  in  and  out  of  the  house,  despite  the  three  red 
crosses  I  had  marked  on  the  outer  door/' 

Gregor  heard  her  in  silence,  with  a  peculiar  smile 
about  his  lips,  and  finally  he  went  to  his  wife,  and 
looked  at  her  fingers.  They  were  scratched  and  torn 
in  many  places.  And  when  he  saw  Marfa  again  he  said 
to  her: 

"Watch  and  tell  me  what  happens  the  next  time  I 
am  away." 

And,  surely  enough,  a  week  after,  Marfa  had  the  same 
story  for  him — the  locked  tool-house,  the  walk  to  the 
cemetery,  the  blunt  log,  the  burrowing,  the  foiled  at 
tempt.  This  time  Gregor  did  not  answer  even  with  a 
smile,  but  for  two  days  after  he  went  about  without 
eating  or  drinking,  his  brows  wrinkled  in  thought. 
Towards  the  evening  of  the  third,  he  had  the  horses 
harnessed,  and  made  his  arrangements  as  usual  when 
he  intended  a  prolonged  absence.  When  he  said  good 
bye  to  Rachel,  she  did  not  seem  disconsolate  at  his  de 
parture,  but  her  hands  trembled,  and  there  was  a  fever 
ish  look  in  her  eyes. 

Just  before  starting  Gregor  whispered  to  Marfa: 

"Tell  Bastian  to  leave  the  tool-house  open  and  to 
place  the  strongest  spade  close  to  the  entrance." 

Then  he  drove  off,  but  only  as  far  as  the  village,  and 


THE  AMBUSH  OF  CONSCIENCE         435 

stabling  his  horses  in  the  disused  smithy,  he  made  his 
way  back  to  the  cemetery,  and  took  up  his  post  behind 
one  of  the  acacia  trees  that  fringed  the  inside  of  the 
wall. 

So  he  stood,  motionless,  patiently  peering  into  the 
darkness,  through  which  the  wan  moonlight  trickled 
sparingly.  Now  he  would  see  for  himself  whatever 
there  was  to  see.  And  when  he  had  seen  .... 

It  was  past  midnight;  Gregor  felt  himself  taking 
root  in  the  soil,  when  his  ear  caught  the  sound  of  hur 
rying  footsteps.  He  would  have  recognized  those  foot 
steps  amid  the  tramp  of  an  army;  he  knew  also  by  the 
ring  of  iron  against  the  hard  gravel  that  Marfa  had 
given  Bastian  his  message.  And  then  his  eyes  became 
glowing  coals  that  set  the  gloom  on  fire  wherever  they 
struck  it.  Yes,  there  she  was;  she  was  standing  by 
the  grave,  and  now  her  spade  was  flinging  up  the  sod 
in  frantic  haste.  For  a  moment  or  two  he  watched 
her;  then  a  few  noiseless  strides  brought  him  to  her 
side.  She  did  not  hear  him,  and  her  spade  plied  on. 

"  Vampire,"  he  said  softly,  taking  the  implement  out 
of  her  hands. 

With  a  stifled  cry  she  fell  forward,  and  huddled  her 
head  in  her  arms.  Slowly,  deliberately  he  lifted  the 
spade  high  in  the  air,  the  blade  turned  sideways,  and 
for  an  instant  he  stood  measuring  his  aim.  Then,  with 
a  sudden  thought,  he  flung  it  from  him.  Tenderly  his 
left  arm  stole  round  her  neck,  his  lips  burned  pas 
sionately  on  hers,  while  his  free  hand  fumbled  for  the 
dirk  in  his  belt. 

"No,  you  shall  die  a  cleaner  death — for  the  sake 


436  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

of  the  happy  hours  you  have  given  me,"  he  whispered, 

as  the  steel  ate  its  way  into  her  heart. 

************ 

Next  morning  Marfa  and  Bastian  were  busy  spread 
ing  the  news  that  the  young  mistress  had  gone  sleep 
walking  to  the  grave-yard,  and  there  had  become  the 
victim  of  some  miscreant's  foul  play.  And  then  Bas 
tian  went  and  told  his  daughter  to  put  on  her  prettiest 
dress,  and  make  herself  conspicuous  in  the  eyes  of  the 
master. 

But  Eachel  never  had  a  successor,  there  was  no  time 
for  that.  Three  days  after  her  funeral,  Marfa  came 
upon  her  son  lying  stiff  and  stark  in  his  room,  the 
posion  phial  at  his  side.  On  the  table  she  found  his 
testament : 

"  I  can  find  no  rest ;  and  so  I  have  followed  her  into 
the  land  where  there  is  no  falsehood,  to  learn  from  her 
the  truth." 


COSSACK  AND   CHORISTER 

ANYBODY  with  half  an  eye  to  proportion  could  see 
what  an  ill-assorted  couple  they  were.  Among  their 
most  obtrusive  dissimilarities  were  these:  the  one  was 
called  Casimir,  the  other  Jacob,  the  names  betoken 
ing  Slav  and  Semitic  descent  respectively.  Again, 
Casimir  had  to  stoop  under  most  of  the  doorways 
through  which  he  passed,  whereas  Jacob,  when  stand 
ing  his  tallest,  just  reached  CasirmYs  elbow,  a  circum 
stance  to  be  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  one  had 
been  a  full-grown  man  for  years,  while  the  other  had 
still  most  of  his  growing  to  get  through  with.  But  the 
most  radical  difference  surely  was  this:  Casimir  was 
a  spear-bearing,  fierce-whiskered  member  of  his  Majes 
ty's  imperial  army,  Cossack  department;  and  Jacob  a 
soprano  chorister  in  the  local  synagogue.  How,  in 
spite  of  these  desperate  inequalities,  there  came  to  be 
any  connection  between  the  two  was  a  miracle. 

It  is  the  fashion  to  explain  miracles  by  natural 
causes;  this  is  a  case  in  point.  To  bring  about  pri 
marily  a  reachable  distance  between  Casimir  and  Jacob, 
it  was  fated  that  certain  turbulent  minds  among  the 
gentry  of  the  district  wherein  Jacob  lived  should  be 
come  suddenly  troubled  by  the  ghosts  of  Sobietski  and 
Kosciusko  and  the  spectre  of  Poland's  departed  great 
ness,  which  came  to  them  clamoring  for  a  speedy  re 
incarnation.  These  turbulent  minds  had  long  failed 
to  see  what  connection — excepting  that  of  the  railway 


438  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

— there  should  be  between  St.  Petersburg  and  War 
saw,  and  why  people  should  not  be  allowed  to  do  as 
they  liked  in  and  with  their  own  country.  They  there 
upon  took  to  disseminating  this  opinion,  at  first  pri 
vately  and  with  circumspection.,  then  more  broadcast 
and  openly,  until  rumors  of  it  reached  the  keen-set  ears 
of  the  governmental  authorities,  who  with  great  gusto 
straightway  made  a  blood-curdling  report  of  it  to  head 
quarters.  There  is  a  fixed  and  constitutional  remedy 
for  these  cases  of  political  hay  fever,  administered  in 
the  shape  of  two  or  three  Pulks  of  Cossacks,  whose 
presence  generally  serves  as  a  cooling-draught  for  the 
hot-headed  restorationists.  That  is  how  Casimir  came 
to  Lotz. 

There  was  a  great  deal  of  excitement  when  the  regi 
ment  rattled  into  the  little  town,  and  halted  on  the 
market-place.  Everybody  was  there  to  receive  them, 
from  the  mayor  to  the  knacker,  just  to  show  there  was 
no  ill-feeling  towards  the  arrivals,  and  the  patriots  felt 
very  small  at  sight  of  the  swarthy,  bearded  faces  and 
gleaming  lance-points.  Of  course  Jacob  was  there, 
bearing  himself  very  calmly  in  the  possession  of  a  clean 
conscience;  but  all  the  same,  he  felt  rather  frightened 
when  presently  one  of  the  men  rode  straight  up  to 
him  and  said  gruffly: 

"  Do  you  know  one  Pototski,  a  miller?  " 

There  was  nothing  formidable  about  the  question, 
and  Jacob  felt  particularly  adapted  for  answering  it. 

"  Yes,  I  know  him,"  he  piped;  "  my  mother  lives  in 
his  courtyard." 

"  Come  along,  then,  and  show  the  way — I  am  billeted 
there,"  said  the  man;  and  before  Jacob  knew  what  was 


COSSACK  AND  CHOKISTEK  439 

happening,  he  found  himself  whipped  up  by  the  nape 
of  his  jacket,  and  seated  astride  in  the  saddle.  In  a 
second  or  two  he  grew  alive  to  the  situation,  and  deter 
mined  to  make  the  best  of  it.  Horse-riding  was  a  new 
sensation  to  him;  when  his  father,  who  had  been  a 
butcher,  was  living,  he  had  occasionally  been  allowed 
to  ride  cattle  to  the  shambles.  But  this  was  different; 
to  ride  on  one  horse  with  a  Cossack  was  an  experience 
to  relate  and  remember,  and  would  no  doubt  raise  his 
prestige  among  the  knickerbocker  population  of  the 
town  by  several  inches. 

This  was  the  first  contact  between  Casimir  and  Jacob, 
but  it  needed  more  than  that  to  bring  about  an  ac 
quaintance.  And  this  time,  despite  the  shoulder-shrug 
of  the  rationalist,  the  hand  of  Providence  was  stretched 
forth  visibly.  Two  days  after,  Jacob  was  sitting  near 
the  window  to  catch  the  last  streaks  of  the  dying  day 
light;  for  he  was  particularly  anxious  to  finish  carving 
his  bulrush  whistle  that  evening.  It  was  turning  out 
beautifully — the  rind  was  tough  and  fresh,  and  would 
not  require  much  hammering  to  remove  the  stalk  from 
within,  and  Jacob  expressed  his  satisfaction  thereat  in 
tones  of  loud  and  clear-voiced  melody.  He  did  not 
notice  what  he  was  singing — singing  had  become  a 
mechanical  action  with  him;  he  sang  with  as  little  self- 
consciousness  as  a  bird,  and,  therefore,  because  his 
music  came  from  the  heart,  it  went  to  the  heart.  In 
the  distance  there  was  a  sound  of  rioting,  where  the 
soldiers  had  gathered  in  the  canteen;  but  sometimes, 
when  Jacob's  voice  rose  especially  clear,  there  was  a 
lull,  as  if  they  were  listening.  Jacob  noticed  neither 
the  noise  nor  the  silence,  but  worked  on  busily.  His 


440  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

mother  sat  at  the  table  with  a  pile  of  goose-feathers 
before  her;  she  was  stripping  the  down  from  the  quills 
to  make  feather  coverlets  of  them;  it  was  what  she 
earned  her  living  by. 

The  twilight  waned,  and  the  room  was  filled  with 
the  argent  glimmer  of  the  full  moon.  "  We  shall  save 
a  rushlight  to-night — God  is  good/'  thought  Jacob, 
and  sang  on.  Just  then  there  was  a  sound  of  heavy 
steps  walking  as  though  trying  to  tread  down  their 
heaviness;  they  came  nearer,  and  paused  before  the 
door.  Jacob  heard  them,  and  stopped  singing;  and 
instantly  the  latch  lifted,  and  a  towering  form  strode 
across  the  threshold. 

"  Who  was  singing  here?  "  said  a  voice  from  some 
where  among  the  rafters. 

Jacob's  mother  screamed — she  understood  Russian 
because  she  had  served  as  cook  in  Odessa  many  years 
before  her  marriage;  and  the  question  suggested  to 
her  answers  in  the  shape  of  knouts  and  prisons  and 
Siberia,  and  fear  tied  her  tongue. 

"Who  was  singing  here?"  came  the  question  more 
urgently. 

The  woman  sprang  up,  and  threw  herself  on  her 
knees  before  the  intruder. 

"Spare  us,  spare  us,  your  Honor,"  she  stammered; 
"the  boy  did  not  know  he  was  doing  wrong.  Did  he 
disturb  your  Honor  in  your  sleep?  or  is  it  not  lawful 
to  sing  the  song?"  And  then  she  turned  to  her  son, 
and  became  fluent  in  chiding  him.  "Did  I  not  tell 
thee,  rascal,  to  let  alone  these  songs  of  the  Gentiles? 
Have  I  not  begged  of  thee  to  sing  the  synagogue  tunes 
like  '  He  is  the  Tree  of  Life/  and  '  There  is  none  like 


COSSACK  AND  CHORISTER  441 

Him  among  the  gods/  and  such  things,  whereat  none 
can  take  umbrage?  To  be  sure,  your  Honor,  I  have 
warned  him,  but  he  is  obstinate  and  foolhardy:  do  not 
let  your  hand  fall  too  heavy  on  us,  for  he  is  but  a  child 
without  sense,  and  my  husband  served  the  Emperor 
loyally  for  twelve  years." 

The  Cossack  heard  her  patiently,  then  he  smiled — 
at  least  Jacob  saw  his  teeth  gleam  in  the  moonlight. 

"  My  good  woman,"  he  said  at  last;  "  I  have  not  come 
to  harm  you.  There  is  nothing  punishable  in  the  boy's 
song,  although  it  is  the  cause  of  my  coming;  but  that 
is  no  business  of  yours.  Come  here,  little  throstle; 
who  taught  you  that  song?  " 

"What  song,  your  Honor?"  whimpered  Jacob,  still 
very  much  frightened. 

"  The  '  Minka,  Minka  '  song." 

And  Jacob  told  him  how  there  had  come  to  the  choir 
two  years  ago  one  Aaron,  a  tenor,  and  he  it  was  who 
had  taught  him  the  song.  Aaron  had  learned  it  on  his 
wanderings,  somewhere  in  Livonia,  and  this  same 
Aaron  had  afterwards  gone  to  Warsaw,  and  had  there 
become  a  famous  opera  singer.  Casimir  nodded  his 
head.  Quite  true,  the  song  came  from  Livonia,  for 
that  he  could  vouch.  That  was  where  he  had  first 
heard  it,  and  that  was  where  he  had  met  the  Minka  who 
had  sung  it  to  him  in  the  drowsy  summer  afternoons, 
and  had  given  the  sunset  a  golden  glory  such  as  he  had 
never  seen  before.  And  then,  when  his  regiment  had 
been  ordered  further,  the  memory  of  song  and  singer 
and  sunset  had  followed  him  hauntingly,  till  he 
stretched  out  his  arms  in  vain,  impotent  longing  for  the 
dreamlike  gladness  of  the  past.  Ever  since  he  had 


442  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

seen  no  beauty  in  melody,  nor  in  the  smile  of  maidens, 
nor  in  the  gorgeous  phantasms  of  the  summer  sky. 
But  at  the  sound  of  the  self -same  song  it  was  as  though 
by  a  magic  touch  the  old  world  were  rising  from  its 
ruins;  he  was  again  lying  on  the  heather  with  Minka 
beside  him  chasing  the  importunate  gnats  from  his 
forehead,  and  singing  with  that  soul-bewildering  sweet 
ness  which  only  her  happiness  of  heart  could  have 
taught  her.  And  again  he  went  through  the  short 
lived  period  of  Paradise — from  the  first  mute  compre 
hending  look  to  the  agonized  bliss  of  the  last  embrace. 

Jacob  looked  at  him  in  wonder.  What  made  the 
stern-faced  man  draw  his  lips  together  as  if  he  were 
in  pain?  What  put  the  far-away  look  into  his  eyes? 
Jacob  would  have  pitied  him,  if  there  had  been  a  man 
on  the  face  of  the  earth  bold  enough  to  pity  a  Cos 
sack. 

Casimir  took  a  chair,  and  made  himself  at  home. 

"Will  you  sing  that  song  again,  little  man?"  he 
said. 

Jacob  was  quite  willing;  he  had  lost  all  fear.  The 
great  big  soldier  spoke  very  kindly,  almost  pleadingly, 
so  he  began: 

"  Minka,  the  plain  is  asleep, 
Minka,  the  moon " 

Casimir  stopped  him.  "Wait  a  minute,"  he  said, 
and  got  up  to  shut  the  open  window.  Jacob  thought 
he  looked  jealous  that  anything  of  the  tune  should 
float  away,  and  be  lost  on  the  air. 

Jacob  began  again,  putting  all  his  soul  into  his 
voice: 


COSSACK  AND  CHOKISTER  443 

"  Minka,  the  plain  is  asleep, 

Minka,  the  moon  is  blind ; 
Minka,  the  stars  breathe  deep — 

Their  breath  is  the  whispering  wind." 

And  so  it  went  on. 

Casimir  looked  up  with  a  sigh  when  it  was  finished. 
"  It  does  not  seem  so  long  ago,  nor  so  far  away  after 
all/'  he  muttered;  and  then,  stroking  Jacob's  head,  he 
said,  "  Good-night,  little  man;  may  the  saints  watch 
over  you." 

He  went  out  very  slowly,  stopping  to  smile  hack  from 
the  door.  The  next  evening  he  came  again,  and  Jacob 
had  to  sing  the  "Minka"  song  once  and  twice  and 
three  times.  Casimir  tapped  time  with  his  foot,  and 
tried  to  hum  a  bar  or  two  under  his  breath  in  his 
bassoon  gurgle;  but  it  was  not  a  success,  for  he  sang 
dreadfully  out  of  tune,  and  at  last  he  gave  it  up,  and 
let  Jacob  sing  on  alone. 

The  third  evening  he  came  again.  "  I  have  brought 
you  a  present/'  he  said;  and  out  he  fetched  three  big 
buttons  of  shining  bronze,  such  as  are  worn  on  military 
uniforms,  and  a  rusty  spur.  Jacob  was  delighted, 
especially  with  the  bronze  buttons,  which  were  quite  a 
treasure;  for  among  his  playmates  they  each  counted 
equal  in  value  to  a  whole  dozen  of  the  ordinary  brass  or 
bone  article,  and  Jacob  had  been  slightly  out  of  luck  in 
the  button-game  lately.  As  for  the  spur,  it  would  sell 
for  two  copecks  any  hour  in  the  day. 

Henceforth  Cossack  and  chorister  were  inseparable; 
wherever  one  was  seen,  the  other  was  sure  to  be  not 
many  miles  off.  Jacob  certainly  neglected  no  opportu 
nity  of  being  about  with  his  stalwart  friend,  and  by 


444  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

force  of  example  was  gradually  assuming  a  martial 
swagger  that  would  have  made  him  ludicrous  in  the 
eyes  of  his  comrades,  if  they  had  had  room  for  anything 
but  jealousy  of  his  glory. 

It  must  he  said,  however,  that  there  was  nothing  vir 
ulent  in  their  envy.  For  the  most  part  it  resolved  itself 
into  a  regretful  self-pity;  everybody  cannot  be  so  lucky 
as  to  have  a  real  live  Cossack  for  his  body-guard.  The 
chief  exception  was  Schmeyrel,  the  red-haired,  pimple- 
faced  fellow-chorister  of  Jacob.  He  also  sang  treble, 
but  though  he  had  an  exceptionally  good  voice,  it  did 
not  come  up  to  Jacob's  by  a  size  and  a  half;  and  conse 
quently  it  never  fell  to  Schmeyrel's  lot  to  sing  the 
treble-solos  wherever  such  occurred— a  fact  which  he 
looked  upon  as  a  flagrant  mistake  in  the  dispensation 
of  God's  justice.  He  therefore  did  not  love  Jacob,  and 
was  not  always  complimentary  in  his  criticisms  of  his 
favored  rival. 

"Do  you  think  he  can  sing?"  he  used  to  say.  "If 
you  throw  your  boots  against  the  wall,  you  will  have 
more  music  than  you  could  ever  squeeze  out  of  his 
voice." 

And  now,  when  he  saw  the  intimate  relations  be 
tween  Jacob  and  Casimir,  his  bile  was  full  to  bursting. 
It  only  needed  a  sight  of  Jacob  flying  by  on  the  Cos 
sack's  horse,  with  Casimir  gripping  him  solicitously 
behind,  to  spoil  Schmeyrel's  appetite  for  the  day;  and 
as  this  sort  of  thing  occurred  at  least  once  every 
twenty-four  hours,  he  was  in  a  fair  way  of  dwindling 
down  to  a  bag  of  bones.  Thus  desperate  measures 
became  necessary.  Supplanting  Jacob  was  impossible. 
Schmeyrel  knew  he  sat  too  firm  in  the  saddle  of  the 


UOSSACK  AND  CHOKISTEK  445 

Cossack's  horse  and  the  Cossack's  affections.  He  there 
fore  set  about  equalizing  matters  by  getting  for  himself 
a  Cossack  of  his  own. 

How  it  was  he  smuggled  himself  into  Sturak's  good 
graces  remained  a  mystery.  His  mother  did  not  con 
nect  the  event  with  the  mysterious  disappearance  of 
the  liver  sausages  and  onion-strings  from  the  hay-loft, 
nor  did  his  father  associate  it  with  the  abnormally  rapid 
decline  of  his  brandy  and  tobacco.  It  was  only  when 
the  roast  goose  that  was  to  have  served  for  the  Sab 
bath  dinner  took  wings  unto  itself  and  flew  away  that 
SchmeyrePs  tactics  of  ingratiation  fell  under  momen 
tary  suspicion.  But  he  had  attained  his  object;  he 
was  allowed  to  walk  by  Sturak's  side,  clutching  him 
by  the  skirt  of  his  coat;  he  could  touch  his  lance,  sit 
on  his  horse,  and  avail  himself  of  all  the  amenities  of 
having  a  Cossack  for  an  acquaintance.  The  one 
shadow  of  dissatisfaction  consisted  in  the  thought  that 
herein  also  Jacob  had  outdistanced  him:  Jacob's  Cos 
sack  was  the  Colonel's  special  orderly,  whereas  Sturak 
was  a  mere  rank-and-file  man. 

Strange  to  say,  Sturak  had  himself  remarked  on  this 
inequality  of  things,  though  not  from  Schmeyrel's  point 
of  view.  He  saw  no  reason  why  Casimir  should  be 
orderly  and  not  he.  There  were  privileges,  perquisites, 
exemptions,  connected  with  the  post  which  made  it 
desirable  to  have.  Sturak  had  never  failed  to  ob 
serve  on  the  drill-ground  how  much  more  cool  and 
comfortable  Casimir  must  feel,  sitting  still  on  his  horse, 
at  a  respectful  distance  behind  the  Colonel,  than  if  he 
were  engaged  with  the  others  in  performing  neck- 
breaking,  bewildering  movements  and  evolutions,  and 


446  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

choking  all  the  time  with  dust  and  heat  and  vexation. 
He  thought  of  CasinuYs  luck  at  the  time  when  the 
elm  forest  outside  the  town  had  been  struck  by  light 
ning,  and  was  blazing  away  merrily,  so  that  Sturak  and 
all  his  comrades  had  to  turn  out  with  axes  to  cut  a 
clearing  and  prevent  the  fire  from  causing  further  mis 
chief.  And  what  did  Casimir  do?  Nothing;  he  just 
stood  aside  out  of  harm's  way,  superintending  and  giv 
ing  directions,  like  a  full-fledged  non-commissioned 
officer,  complacently  watching  the  others  getting 
scorched  and  blistered,  not  to  mention  the  immediate 
possibility  of  their  getting  their  heads  broken  by  the 
down-crashing  trunks.  Oh,  it  was  a  grand  thing  to  be 
the  Colonel's  orderly! 

The  summer  had  been  quite  young  when  the  Cos 
sacks  came  to  Lotz;  by  the  time  it  was  middle-aged 
Casimir  and  Jacob  seemed  to  have  known  each  other 
all  their  lives.  But  much  earlier  in  the  day  the  con 
federacy  had  been  raised  to  a  trio.  Satanas  was  a  fine 
fellow,  despite  his  congenital  habit  of  going  on  four 
legs.  His  skin  was  smooth  as  velvet  and  black  as  jet, 
so  that  the  whites  of  his  eyes,  shot  with  thin  streaks 
of  red,  gleamed  out  in  startling  contrast.  He  was 
completed  by  an  arching  tail,  which  meant  eternity  to 
any  presumptuous  insect  that  came  within  the  sweep 
and  purchase  of  it.  Casimir  had  cropped  it  by  four 
inches,  because  otherwise  Satanas  flicked  himself  in 
the  afore-mentioned  eyes,  which  did  not  conduce  to 
his  good  behavior.  For  the  maintenance  of  this  Casi 
mir  was  responsible.  The  horse  belonged  to  the  Col 
onel,  and  Casimir  had  his  hands  full  in  reminding  this 
same  Satanas  that  even  the  most  high-spirited  stallion 


COSSACK  AND  CHORISTER  447 

has  to  conform  to  certain  rules  and  restrictions  not 
observed  in  his  primitive  state. 

If  any  man  could  do  that  it  was  Casimir;  he  was 
noted  as  the  best  and  boldest  roughrider  within  the 
range  of  the  Uralo-Carpathians,  and  although  Satanas 
came  to  him  with  the  reputation  of  having  kicked  his 
mother  and  his  brother-foal  to  death,  the  mere  sound  of 
Casimir's  voice  soon  began  to  have  a  most  salutary  effect 
on  his  morals.  Occasionally  the  old,  or  rather  the 
young  Satanas  peeped  out  of  him,  as  in  the  case  of  the 
man  who  wagered  he  would  ride  him  with  spurs;  that 
man  never  put  on  spurs  again.  Satarias  soon  saw  that 
Jacob  was  a  friend  of  his  chamberlain,  and  under  the 
circumstances  found  it  expedient  to  treat  him  with  a 
certain  amount  of  consideration;  and  then  he  thought 
that  this  roundabout  way  was  a  waste  of  time,  and 
determined  to  like  the  boy  for  his  own  sake. 

So  the  three  lived  together  in  very  good  accord. 
Every  afternoon  Casimir  took  the  horse  to  the  river 
to  give  him  his  after-siesta  bath;  Jacob  helped  to  rub 
him  down,  and  in  reward  was  allowed  to  ride  him  back 
to  stable,  with  Casimir  leading  by  the  bridle.  In  the 
meantime  the  "  Minka  "  song  was  not  forgotten.  Some 
times  Casimir  went  about  like  a  man  in  a  trance,  or 
stood  looking  northwards,  his  soul  and  body  seemingly 
nothing  but  eyes.  Jacob  knew  him  in  these  moods; 
gently,  as  though  it  were  merely  the  wind  blowing  in 
snatches  of  music,  he  started  the  song,  and  gradually  let 
it  swell  out  in  full  sonorousness,  till  earth  and  sky 
seemed  to  be  singing  the  glories  of  Minka.  And  in  the 
end  Casimir  always  came  to  himself  with  a  little  shiver, 


448  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

as  though  he  had  passed  through  a  tense,  soul-racking 
agony,  and  felt  he  had  still  hope  of  life. 

But  once  something  very  unpleasant  occurred  in 
connection  with  the  song.  It  was  a  sultry  night,  and 
the  stars  flashed  as  they  flash  only  once  in  a  thousand 
years,  and  Jacob  had  gone  with  Casimir  to  pass  the 
night  in  the  great  barn  that  served  as  sleeping  accom 
modation  for  the  detachment.  The  others  had  all 
dozed  off,  but  Casimir  kept  tossing  and  tossing  from 
side  to  side  on  his  truss;  at  last  he  sat  up,  and  with  his 
chin  propped  up  on  both  hands  gazed  wearily  at  the 
heavens.  Jacob  watched  him  furtively  for  a  while, 
and  then,  crawling  up  to  him,  put  his  arm  round  his 
friend's  neck,  and  whispered: 

"  Shall  I  sing  it?  » 

Casimir  nodded  silently,  and  Jacob  began  in  a  low, 
crooning  tone,  which  a  nurse  might  use  in  soothing  a 
fretful  child.  But  it  was  not  so  soft  that  the  other 
sleepers  could  sleep  through  it,  and  one  by  one  they 
lifted  their  heads  and  listened;  perhaps  it  reminded 
them  of  their  mothers  and  wives  and  sisters  praying 
for  them  in  their  homes  thousands  and  thousands  of 
miles  away.  But  when  Jacob  had  gone  as  far  as  the 
middle,  Sturak's  voice  came  gruffly: 

"What  ails  the  Jew-brat?  He  whines  like  a  wolf- 
cub  that  has  fed  on  moonlight  instead  of  mother's  milk 
for  a  month.  Silence,  you  whimpering  cur." 

Jacob  looked  up,  and  saw  Casimir  signing  to  him  to 
go  on.  That  sufficed  him;  at  Casimir's  bidding  he 
would  have  sung  in  defiance  of  all  other  Cossacks  in 
the  world. 


COSSACK  AND  CHOEISTER  449 

"  Silence,  there/'  shouted  Sturak  again.  "  What, 
you  will  not?  Then  listen  to  this." 

His  foot  shot  out,  and  Jacob  flew  forward  as  from  a 
catapult,  and  the  rest  of  the  song  tumbled  out  of  him 
all  at  once  in  a  heap  of  gasps  and  gurgles.  Luckily 
Steak's  foot  was  unshod,  else  Jacob  would  not  have 
been  left  with  any  backbone  to  speak  of.  Casimir  got 
up  very  quietly,  strode  over  to  where  Jacob  lay,  exam 
ined  him,  and  saw  there  was  not  much  damage  done. 
Relieved  on  that  point,  he  went  back  to  the  barn, 
and  busied  himself  with  Sturak;  that  is  to  say,  with  one 
hand  he  clutched  him  by  his  shoulder-strap  and  with 
the  other  by  the  belt,  and  banged  him  up  and  down  on 
the  straw  pallet,  as  if  he  were  determined  to  get  a 
bushel  of  grain  out  of  the  empty  ears.  Sturak  pro 
tested,  and  if  he  had  only  once  succeeded  in  getting  his 
teeth  firmly  set  in  his  assailant's  wrist,  the  latter  would 
have  remembered  it  for  many  a  day  to  come.  But 
Casimir  was  lithe  as  an  eel,  and  when  he  had  done  with 
Sturak  as  a  threshing  machine,  he  threw  him  down 
with  a  decisive  thud,  and  went  back  to  his  couch. 
However,  there  was  not  much  sleeping  done  in  the  barn 
that  night;  Casimir  kept  awake  to  prevent  Sturak  from 
knifing  him  unawares,  and  the  others  had  a  disquieting 
notion  that  Sturak  might  fasten  the  barn  door  from 
outside  and  burn  them  as  a  sacrifice  to  his  humiliated 
pride. 

The  report  of  the  scrimmage  got  abroad,  and 
Schmeyrel  went  about  with  mischievous  insinuations 
concerning  Jacob. 

"Take  care,"  he  told  everybody,  "that  vagabond 
will  plunge  us  all  into  ruin;  was  it  not  through  him 


450  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

that  Sturak  was  nearly  killed?  And  if  it  had  not  been 
for  me  and  for  my  begging  the  Cossack  with  tears  not 
to  visit  the  sins  of  the  guilty  on  the  innocent,  it  would 
have  gone  hard  with  us;  for  he  had  sworn  wherever  he 
met  a  Jew  to  run  him  through  the  belly  with  his  lance. 
But,  of  course,  no  one  thanks  me  for  what  I  do  for  the 
benefit  of  the  congregation." 

However,  nothing  more  was  heard  of  the  affair,  for 
Sturak  thought  there  was  always  more  to  be  lost  than 
gained  in  trying  tricks  on  Casimir.  But  he  carefully 
made  a  note  of  the  whole  business,  and  waited  an 
opportunity  when  he  could  have  his  own  say  with 
safety.  Jacob  felt  a  little  stiff  for  a  few  days,  and  then 
something  of  such  moment  happened  as  to  put  the 
recollection  of  his  misadventure  clean  out  of  his  mind. 

The  "magnum  opus"  of  Myer  Bachya,  the  famous 
precentor  of  Lotz,  was  at  last  finished.  Twelve  months 
had  he  been  about  his  setting  of  the  passage  "  The  Lord 
is  King,"  which  is  said  during  the  Friday  Evening  Ser 
vice,  and  in  all  he  had  made  five  different  and  distinct 
draughts  of  the  composition  before  he  was  satisfied 
with  his  work.  And  a  wonderful  thing  it  was — so  much 
could  be  seen  even  from  the  imperfect  renderings  of 
the  initial  rehearsals.  It  started  by  being  chanted 
right  through  as  a  solo  by  each  of  the  four  part  voices, 
and  the  accompaniment  of  the  other  three  was  varied 
in  every  case.  This  served  as  an  introduction,  and 
then  it  was  gone  through  with  twice  in  a  grand  ensemble 
— the  first  time  in  "  dur  "  the  second  in  "  moll."  Then 
the  precentor  himself  declaimed  it  as  a  recitative,  and 
after  that  came  the  item  de  resistance — a  treble  mono 
logue  sung  by  one  voice,  for  which,  of  course,  Jacob 


COSSACK  AND  CHOKISTER  451 

had  been  cast  from  the  start.  The  subsequent  and 
diversified  movements  of  "  The  Lord  is  King  "  are  too 
numerous  to  specify — how  numerous,  may  be  gauged 
by  intimation  being  sent  to  the  wardens  of  the  syna 
gogue  that  on  the  eve  of  its  production  they  had  better 
provide  candles  three  times  the  length  of  those  used 
on  less  conspicuous  occasions.  Yes,  "  The  Lord  is 
King  "  was  undoubtedly  a  great  work,  with  fugues  and 
coloratures  of  the  most  neck-twisting  descriptions,  with 
startling  paradoxes  of  counterpoint,  and  contra-  C's  for 
the  basses  and  top  C's  for  the  tenors  in  wasteful  pro 
fusion.  There  was  not  a  chorister  in  Bachya's  choir 
who  did  not  pat  himself  on  the  back  for  having  cast  in 
his  lot  with  so  distinguished  a  precentor.  Their  fame 
was  now  assured,  for  the  work  would  take  its  trium 
phant  course  through  all  the  synagogues  of  Poland, 
Slavonia,  Kurland,  into  Hungary  and  Austria,  and  they, 
the  original  interpreters,  would  live  long  in  the  memo 
ries  and  traditions  of  their  imitators.  The  solo-singers 
— all  except  little  Jacob,  the  greatest  of  them — gave 
themselves  high  airs,  and  swelled  visibly  with  conceit 
and  a  sense  of  indispensability. 

Bachya  was  very  pleased  with  the  progress  of  the  re 
hearsals,  and  announced  that  the  debut  of  "  The  Lord 
is  King  "  was  fixed  for  the  eve  of  the  Sabbath  of  Ee- 
pentance,  which  would  invest  it  with  greater  eclat,  this 
being  the  most  momentous  of  all  Sabbaths,  because  it  is 
the  immediate  forerunner  of  the  Day  of  Atonement; 
and,  despite  the  stress  of  their  own  duties,  the  pre 
centors  of  Linschitz,  Klom,  Volesen,  and  all  the  neigh 
boring  towns  had  promised  to  grace  the  occasion  with 
their  presence.  And  as  the  decisive  day  drew  near  and 


452  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

things  were  getting  ship-shape,  Bachya  and  his  chor 
isters  went  ahout  with  the  exhilarating  consciousness 
of  having  a  sensation  in  store  for  the  world. 

Jacob  had  not  seen  so  much  of  Casimir  lately,  but 
for  all  that  there  was  no  slackening  of  their  friendship. 
The  only  difference  was  that,  as  time  went  on,  a  change 
came  over  the  Cossack's  disposition  which  Jacob  could 
not  fathom.  There  was  a  restlessness,  an  anxious  ex- 
pectancy  about  him,  as  though  the  future  were  big  with 
tremendous  consequences.  But  when  Jacob  met  him 
on  the  morning  of  the  great  "  The  Lord  is  King " 
Friday,  the  look  he  saw  on  Casimir's  face  almost  made 
him  cry  out  in  wonder;  the  man  seemed  transfigured. 

"  What  has  happened?  "  he  asked.  "  Why,  Casimir, 
you  look  as  if  you  had  been  born  all  over  again." 

Casimir  smiled.  "Don't  ask  questions,  little  man," 
he  said,  "you  don't  understand  these  things."  And 
then  he  sank  his  voice  to  a  conspirator's  whisper.  "  Do 
you  know  what  I  am  going  to  do?  I  am  going  away 
the  whole  day;  the  Colonel  is  out  wolf-hunting,  and  he 
won't  know.  Come  with  me,  I  must  find  some  one  to 
give  Satanas  his  afternoon  splash;  it  is  getting  cold, 
and  there  won't  be  many  more  for  him  this  season." 

Jacob  trotted  along  merrily.  "  Shall  I  go  down  to 
the  river  with  him?  "  he  asked. 

"If  you  like,  why  not? "  was  the  answer. 

"  And  may  I  ride  him  back?  " 

Casimir  looked  serious.  "  I  don't  know,"  he  said  at 
last;  "  it  is  rather  risky  without  me." 

"But  he  knows  me  by  now,"  protested  Jacob;  "he 
pricks  up  his  ears  when  he  hears  me  coming,  and  neighs. 
I  think  he  likes  me  as  well  as  you." 


COSSACK  AND  CHOKISTEE  453 

"  H'm,"  observed  Casimir,  cautiously.  He  knew  that 
Satanas'  affection  for  him  was  tempered  to  a  certain 
extent  with  fear.  But  there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid 
of  in  little  Jacob,  and  therefore  the  animal's  liking  for 
him  was  perhaps  of  a  more  genuine  sort,  which  made 
things  more  hopeful  as  far  as  Jacob's  request  was  con 
cerned. 

"  Well,  if  you  will  be  very  careful,"  was  the  decision; 
"  sit  very  still,  and  don't  let  the  reins  flap,  else  he  might 
think  some  one  was  flogging  him." 

Jacob  promised  faithfully  to  keep  a  zealous  guard 
over  his  neck  and  legs,  for  the  normal  condition  of 
which  he  had  a  strong  partiality.  Then  they  went  and 
found  a  beetle-browed,  heavy-jawed  Wallachian.,  who 
undertook  to  act  as  CasinuVs  substitute. 

The  whole  forenoon  Jacob  lounged  aimlessly  about 
the  streets,  the  more  at  a  loss  for  diversion  because  the 
afternoon  and  evening  were  to  be  a  programme  of  inci 
dents;  besides  he  was  rather  impatient  to  try  how  much 
influence  he  personally  possessed  over  Satanas.  He 
was  therefore  in  good  time  at  the  stables,  and  superin 
tended  the  removal  of  Satanas  with  the  air  of  a  pro 
prietor.  The  river  passed  by  the  outskirts  of  the  town, 
and  soon  the  whole  cavalcade  of  men  and  horses  was 
sleepily  wending  its  way  thither  through  the  sultry 
afternoon.  Jacob  passed  Schmeyrel  walking  at  Sturak's 
side. 

"Have  you  been  sucking  raw  eggs?"  shouted 
Schmeyrel. 

"  What  for?  "  asked  Jacob,  off  his  guard. 

"  To  make  your  voice  a  bit  smoother ;  it  rasps  like  a 
grater." 


454  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Schmeyrel  knew  he  was  telling  a  lie,  and  Jacob  knew 
of  SchmeyrePs  knowledge,  and  therefore  did  not  trouble 
to  continue  the  topic,  reserving  his  demonstration  for 
the  evening. 

In  a  little  while  the  whole  troop  were  plunging  and 
spuming  in  the  freshening  waters,  which  sucked  the 
seething  heat-fever  out  of  their  veins.  Satanas  was 
behaving  in  his  best  style;  of  course  he  was  aware  that 
Casimir  was  away,  but  the  presence  of  Jacob  was  a 
guarantee  that  things  were  as  they  should  be.  So 
when,  after  the  ablutions,  Jacob  mounted  him,  it  was 
only  what  he  expected. 

The  others  were  cantering  on  in  front;  Satanas  was 
right  behind,  for  Jacob  was  mindful  of  CasiimYs  pre 
cept  to  use  him  gently;  the  Wallachian  walked  stolidly 
by  his  side,  one  hand  on  the  bridle.  Gradually  one 
of  the  other  mounts  fell  back,  and  Jacob  saw  it  was 
Sturak  with  Schmeyrel  on  the  saddle  in  front  of  him. 
Schmeyrel  had  cut  himself  a  withe  from  the  bank,  and 
was  swishing  it  in  the  air.  The  two  horses  trotted  side 
by  side  with  a  fair  distance  between  them.  Then 
Sturak  edged  up  closer,  keeping  somewhat  in  the  rear, 
so  that  Jacob  hardly  noticed  that  they  were  only  an 
arm's  length  or  so  apart. 

Sturak  was  eying  Satanas  with  sidelong  glances, 
and  somehow  the  beast  gave  him  a  suggestion  of  which 
he  had  long  been  in  search.  If  Schmeyrel  should 
chance  to  whip  him  ever  so  lightly  with  his  withe,  there 
would  probably  be  consequences  not  redounding  to 
Casimir's  credit  in  his  capacity  of  Colonel's  orderly;  it 
would  also  incidentally  wipe  off  the  little  score  still 
due  to  him  from  the  barn  episode. 


COSSACK  AND  CHORISTER  455 

"  Strike  him,"  he  whispered  in  SchmeyrePs  ear. 

Schmeyrel  did  not  at  once  catch  the  drift  of  the 
bidding.  Then  it  came  home  to  him  that,  if  he  sent 
Satanas  tearing  away  with  his  rider,  there  would,  in  all 
likelihood,  not  be  sufficient  of  the  rider  left  to  sing  the 
treble  solo  in  "  The  Lord  is  King  "  that  evening.  And 
of  course  there  would  be  requisition  of  himself  as  under 
study.  With  a  deft,  insidious  movement  he  lashed 
Satanas  across  the  haunches.  Satanas  walked  on  un 
concernedly;  he  felt  the  sting,  but  then  he  thought 
there  must  be  a  mistake  somewhere;  no  one  would  take 
such  a  liberty  with  him. 

Sturak  could  not  make  it  out.  "  Strike  harder,"  he 
whispered  again,  and  Schmeyrel  struck  harder. 

This  time  Satanas  was  certain,  and  did  not  stay  to 
see  if  the  arm  of  the  Wallachian  was  still  in  its  socket, 
or  if  he  had  pulled  it  out  by  the  roots.  With  a  shrill 
whistle  of  anger  he  levelled  his  neck,  and  leapt  forward, 
as  if  there  were  myriads  of  hornets  and  gadflies  behind 
him.  Jacob  had  just  time  to  throw  himself  flat,  and 
clutch  as  much  of  the  coal-black  mane  as  his  convulsive 
little  hands  could  hold.  And  then  he  lay  quite  still, 
sucking  himself  on  to  the  maddened  brute  with  all  the 
pores  of  his  body.  So  he  flew  on,  passing  the  straggling 
groups  ahead  one  by  one.  In  wonder  and  terror  they 
stared  after  the  hapless  rider,  but  no  one  stirred  a 
finger;  it  would  be  madness  to  get  in  the  way  of  that 
stampeding  avalanche  of  hoof  and  tail  and  foam. 
Jacob  felt  nothing,  only  the  hissing,  whizzing  noise  in 
his  ears,  and  the  black  dancing  spots  that  kept  circling 
before  his  eyes.  His  limbs  were  numbed  with  a  nar 
cotic  torpor,  and  he  breathed  only  when  the  vice  across 


456  STKANGEKS  AT  THE  GATE 

his  chest  grew  so  tight  that  it  seemed  to  grip  his  life 
by  the  very  core.  Whither  was  he  being  carried  away? 
Perhaps  to  his  father  in  heaven;  well,  then,  he  hoped 
he  would  get  there  soon,  for  he  was  quite  tired  of  the 
deserts  and  deserts  of  nothingness  he  had  already  tra 
versed.  At  one  place  he  heard  a  loud  shriek  which  he 
knew  was  his  mother's,  and  from  that  he  gathered  he 
must  be  somewhere  near  the  synagogue,  for  she  had 
gone  betimes  to  get  a  good  seat,  from  which  to  feast  her 
eyes  and  ears  on  the  one  lamb  that  made  all  her  flock. 

For  all  we  know  this  might  have  been  the  last  of 
Satanas  and  Jacob.  But  that  would  be  forgetting  the 
existence  of  Casimir  and  the  special  Providence  that 
watched  over  "  The  Lord  is  King "  cantata.  Casimir 
had  done  his  day's  business,  and  was  walking  home  very 
pleased  with  himself  and  everybody  else.  Just  as  he 
was  turning  the  cross-road,  he  caught  the  sound  of 
trampling.  "A  runaway  horse/'  he  said  to  himself; 
he  ought  to  have  known,  for  runaway  horses  were  a 
specialty  of  his.  On  a  nearer  view  he  found  the  horse 
was  black,  was  running  as  if  it  had  split  its  four  legs 
into  eight,  and  consequently  was  Satanas;  there  was  a 
motionless  little  figure  clinging  to  his  neck,  with  its 
yellow  curls  fluttering  in  the  wind  like  a  flag,  which 
presumably  was  Jacob:  the  situation  was  quite 
clear. 

Casimir  knew  better  than  to  fling  his  arms  about  like 
a  windmill  and  halloo;  Satanas  was  going  quite  fast 
enough  without  being  given  reasonable  motive  for  an 
extra  spurt.  So  he  waited  till  they  were  abreast,  and 
then  proceeded  to  test  how  far  he  could  stretch  his  legs 
without  actually  dislocating  them.  Man  and  beast  ran 


COSSACK  AND  CHORISTER  457 

on  side  by  side  till  they  had  come  to  a  spread  of  green 
turf,  and  then  Casimir  saw  his  chance.  Bending  for 
ward  he  just  whispered  one  word,  "  Satanas! "  and 
Satanas  stood  still  as  if  his  feet  had  suddenly  grown 
into  the  earth.  But  Casimir  ran  full  two  yards  forward, 
opened  his  arms,  and  dexterously  caught  the  limp, 
huddled  form,  which  he  knew  would  come  whirling 
through  the  air  with  a  semicircular  sweep. 

Five  minutes  afterwards  Jacob  was  saying,  "  Is  that 
you,  Casimir?" 

"Yes,  little  man" — there  was  half  a  sob  in  the 
answer. 

"Casimir!" 

"What,  Jacob?" 

"Tell  me  the  truth— am  I  alive?" 

Casimir  would  have  laughed,  but  he  lacked  the  requi 
site  breath. 

"  Yes,  Jacob,  you  are  alive,"  he  said  soberly. 

"  Then  come  and  let  me  tell  my  mother  so." 

He  suddenly  grasped  what  had  been  the  nagging 
thought  at  the  back  of  his  brain  that  had  kept  him 
from  dying. 

''  The  Lord  is  King "  was  a  prodigious  success — 
there  were  no  two  opinions  about  it.  Casimir,  who 
had  been  standing  open-mouthed  all  through,  thought 
that  Jacob  had  sung  more  gloriously  than  he  had  ever 
sung  the  "  Minka  "  song;  but  perhaps  Jacob's  render 
ing  had  lost  some  of  its  merit  in  consequence  of  certain 
events. 

The  following  Sunday  Jacob  met  Casimir  coming  out 
of  church,  but  he  was  not  alone;  there  was  a  young 
woman  with  him,  by  her  dress  evidently  a  Livonian, 


458  STRANGERS  AT  THE  GATE 

Jacob  turned  tail  to  run,  but  Casimir  caught  him  gently 
by  the  arm,  and  said  smilingly: 

"Jacob,  this  is  Minka;  was  she  not  worth  while 
singing  of?  " 


A  RECENT  PUBLICATION  OF  THE  SOCIETY 


IDYLS  OF  THE  GASS 


BY 


MARTHA  WOLFENSTEIN 


295  pp.    $1.25 


OPINIONS  OF  REVIEWERS 

"  Charming  is,  indeed,  the  word  which  one  keeps  repeat 
ing  to  oneself  throughout.  *  *  *  *  It  is  not  a  novel,  nor 
is  it  a  set  of  short  stories,  but  a  blend  of  both  eked  out 
even,  a  la  Thackeray,  with  snatches  of  essays,  in  which  the 
writer  wears  her  heart  upon  her  leaves.  It  is  a  whimsical, 
wayward,  womanly  book,  saturated  with  the  charm  of  the 
Ghetto  life  which  Miss  Wolfenstein  loves  best  in  the  world." 
— I.  ZANGWILL,  Jewish  Chronicle,  London. 

"...  Those  who  care  less  for  prejudice  than  for  pure 
literature,  noble  and  simple  thoughts,  quiet  but  poignant 
emotions,  insight  at  once  tender  and  keen,  and  a  combi 
nation  of  breadth  with  energy  of  mind  such  as  is  seldom 
found  in  our  self-seeking  civilization — such  readers  will 
read  her  little  volume  until  they  know  it  by  heart.  After 
all,  it  is  not  so  much  matter  whether  it  were  written  about 
Jews,  Hindoos  or  Scandinavians;  it  is  concerned  with  hu 
man  beings,  and  you  cannot  know  its  contents  without  be 
coming  more  human." — JULIAN  HAWTHORNE,  North  Amer 
ican,  Philadelphia. 

"...  The  charming  work  in  letters  of  Miss  Martha 
Wolfenstein  has  reached  out  to  answering  sympathies  and 
has  won  attention  and  praise  by  its  simplicity,  directness, 
and  clear  portrayal  of  a  picturesque  life.  *  *  *  *  I  predict 
for  '  Idyls  of  the  Gass '  the  favor  of  many  readers  who 
grow  tired  of  conventional  writing,  and  who  find  in  char- 


acter  well  realized  and  subtly  chosen  a  foil  for  too  abundant 
romance.  It  is  more  than  a  promising  first  book,  it  is  a 
distinct  performance." — HARRISON  S.  MORRIS,  Book  News. 

"...  She  has  drawn  us  into  her  debt  by  crystallizing  in 
abiding  and  charming  form  countless  floating  memories 
over  which  Jewry  may  smile  as  well  as  sigh." — EMMA 
WOLF,  Jewish  Comment. 

"  It  is  all  so  simple  and  primitive,  and  yet  so  subtly  inter 
woven,  this  detailed  picture  of  an  alien  life,  that  there  is  no 
single  central  thought  upon  which  the  critic  may  lay  a 
triumphant  finger  and  say,  herein  lies  the  essence  of  the 
book;  it  is  not  a  volume  to  be  dissected  and  weighe,d  and 
analyzed,  part  by  part,  but  rather  one  to  be  read  and  en 
joyed,  slowly  and  tranquilly,  in  its  mingled  humor  and 
pathos  and  essential  truth;  while  at  the  same  time  it  quietly 
and  unobtrusively  teaches  a  useful  lesson  in  charity  and 
human  kindness."— Commerical  Advertiser,  New  York. 

"  The  novelist  nowadays  is  often  a  contributor  to  the 
budding  science  of  sociology.  Besides  the  interest  of  his 
plot  he  has  often  information  to  give  as  to  modes  of  life 
and  thought  of  out-of-the-way  communities.  These  '  Idyls 
of  the  Gass '  subserve  this  purpose.  *  *  *  In  such  a  book 
as  this  it  is  the  atmosphere  that  counts,  and  Miss  Wolfen- 
stein  has  succeeded  in  giving  the  atmosphere  of  the  old 
Jewish  life  with  remarkable  success." — Literary  Digest. 

"  There  is  much  that  reminds  of  Zangwill's  '  Children  of 
the  Ghetto '  in  Martha  Wolfenstein's  '  Idyls  of  the  Gass.' 
The  similarity  is  riot  only  in  theme  and  treatment,  but  also 
in  merit  and  charm.  The  book  is  full  of  humanity,  and 
pulsates  with  the  life  it  depicts.  Especially  good  are  those 
pretty  pictures  of  children  which  are  so  real  in  their  pathos 
and  poetry." — Current  Literature. 

"  Whoever  would  realize  the  common  life  and  innermost 
feelings  of  the  people  of  the  Judengasse  (Jews'-street)  in 
a  modern  German  town  could  not  do  better  than  read  this 
little  book."— Outlook. 

"Idyls!  Yes;  there  are  glimpses  of  that  sun  God  gives 
to  all  mankind,  but  there  are  many  shadows,  dark  and 
gloomy  ones,  and  they  come  not  from  the  Almighty,  but 
from  '  bigotry,  corruption,  ignorance,  envy,  and  hate.'  " — 
Times,  New  York. 


PUBLICATIONS 

OF  THE 

Jewisfi  PoiiiGaiioo  Socieiy  of  America 

HISTORY 

HISTORY  OF  THE  JEWS.— By  PROF.  H.  GRAETZ. 
$2.00  per  volume.  $9.00  per  set  of  6  volumes. 

Vol.  I.  From  the  Earliest  Period  to  the  Death  of 
Simon  the  Maccabee  (135  B.  c.  E.). 
553  PP- 

Vol.  II.  From  the  Reign  of  Hyrcanus  to  the 
Completion  of  the  Babylonian  Talmud 
(SOOC.E.).  656pp. 

Vol.  III.  From  the  Completion  of  the  Babylonian 
Talmud  to  the  Banishment  of  the 
Jews  from  England  (ragoc.E.).  675  pp. 

Vol.  IV.  From  the  Rise  of  the  Kabbala  ( 1 270  c.  E.  ) 
to  the  Permanent  Settlement  of  the 
Marranos  in  Holland  (i648c.E.).  743 
pp. 

Vol.  V.  From  the  Chmielnicki  Persecution  in 
Poland  (1648  C.E.)  to  the  Present 
Time.  766  pp. 

Vol.  VI.  Containing  a  Memoir  of  the  Author  by 
Dr.  Philipp  Bloch,  an  Index  to  the 
Five  Volumes,  Maps,  and  a  Chrono 
logical  Table  of  Jewish  History.  644 
pp. 

"  Professor  Graetz  is  the  historiographer  par  excellence  of  the  Jews. 
His  work,  at  present  the  authority  upon  the  subject  of  Jewish  history, 
bids  fair  to  hold  its  pre-eminent  position  for  some  time,  perhaps  de 
cades." — Preface  to  Index  Volume. 


OUTLINES  OF  JEWISH  HISTORY.  From  the 
Return  from  Babylon  to  the  Present  Time. — By 
LADY  MAGNUS.  Revised  by  M.  FRIEDLANDER.  With 
three  Maps,  a  Frontispiece,  and  Chronological  Tables. 
388  pp.  Library  Edition,  $1.00;  School  Edition,  75 
cents. 

"  The  entire  work  is  one  of  great  interest ;  it  is  written  with  modera 
tion,  and  yet  with  a  fine  enthusiasm  for  the  great  race  which  is  set  be 
fore  the  reader's  mind." — Atlantic  Monthly. 


ESSAYS  AND  MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS 

HEARTH  AND   HOME   ESSAYS.     By  ESTHER  J. 

RUSKAY.     96  pp.     30  cents. 

"  They  are  well  written  in  a  very  fervent  and  enthusiastic  style  and 
form  a  series  of  sermonettes  which  ought  to  prove  helpful."— -Jeivis h 
Messenger. 

AMERICAN    JEWISH  YEAR  BOOK.— Edited  by 

CYRUS  ABLER. 

For  5660  (1899-1900).     290  pp.  75  cents. 

For  5661  (1900-1901).     763  pp.  $1.00. 

For  5662  (1901-1902).     321  pp.  75  cents. 

"The  point  of  interest  ...  in  this  new  issue  is  certainly  the  sketch 
of  the  history  of  the  Jews  in  Roumania,  and  of  the  Jewish  situation 
there  since  the  Treaty  of  Berlin."— Nation. 
SONGS  OF  EXILE.     By  Hebrew  Poets.— Translated 
by  NINA  DAVIS.     146  pp.    75  cents. 

"  Their  charm  of  manner  and  depth  of  feeling  must  win  for  these 
poems  many  devoted  admirers."— ISRAEL  ABRAHAMS.  Jewish  Chron 
icle  (London). 

THE  ETHICS  OF  JUDAISM.— By  PROFESSOR  M. 
LAZARUS,  Ph.  D.  Translated  by  HENRIETTA  SZOLD. 
Complete  in  four  parts. 

Parti.     Foundation  of  Jewish  Ethics.     309  pp.    $1.25. 
Part   II.      Sanctification   of   Life   the   Aim  of  Morality. 

300  pp.     $1.25. 

"  For  the  book  itself  there  is  no  other  word  but  indispensable."— 
Expository  Times. 


JEWISH    SERVICES    IN    SYNAGOGUE    AND 
HOME. — By  LEWIS  N.  DEMBITZ.     487  pp.     $1.75. 

"  A  work  which  will  keep  up  the  knowledge  and  remembrance  of  the 
devotional  life  of  the  Jews  as  it  was  in  the  past,  and  of  the  liturgical 
literature  as  it  evolved  throughout  ages  and  in  various  countries." — 
Jewish  Spectator. 

STUDIES  IN  JUDAISM.— By  S.  SCHECHTER.    359  pp. 
11.75. 

"  Mr.  Schechter  is  one  of  the  few  men  whom  we  possess  to-day  who 
seem  to  understand  that  to  popularize  Judaism  is  not  unworthy  cf  the 
greatest  scholar." — EMIL  G.  HIRSCH,  Reform  Advocate. 

JEWISH  LITERATURE  AND  OTHER  ESSAYS. 

— By  GUSTAV  KARPELES.    404  pp.     $1.25. 

"  The  essays  have  the  charm  of  an  attractive  style,  combined  with  a 
subject  of  great  and  varied  interest." — Independent. 

SABBATH  HOURS.  Thoughts.— By  LIEBMAN  ABLER. 
338  pp.     $1.25. 

"  Rabbi  Adler  was  a  man  of  strong  and  fertile  mind,  and  his  sermons 
are  eminently  readable." — Sunday-School  Times. 

SOME  JEWISH  WOMEN.— By  HENRY  ZIRNDORF. 
270  pp.     $1.25. 

"  The  side-lights  which  this  book  casts  upon  rabbinic  life  and  thought 
will  attract  readers."—  Critic. 

CHAPTERS    ON   JEWISH    LITERATURE.— By 

ISRAEL  ABRAHAMS.     275  pp.    $1.25. 

"  The  author  has  performed  his  task  with  admirable  taste  and  judg 
ment.  He  has  written  a  primer  of  Jewish  literature,  it  is  true,  an 
elementary  manual,  so  to  speak,  but  it  is  agreeably  free  from  the  faults 
of  abruptness  and  fragmentariness  so  common  to  that  class  of  booklets. 
.  .  .  It  is  not  a  mere  bibliography,  nor  is  it  a  collection  of  names  and 
works ;  but  a  sketch  in  outline,  warmed  by  the  author's  sympathetic 
treatment  and  enriched  by  his  suggestive  genius."— Jewish  Messenger. 


A  SKETCH  OF  JEWISH  HISTORY.— By  GUSTAV 
KARPELES.  109  pp.  Boards.  30  cents.  (Special 
Series  No.  5. ) 

"  Dr.  Karpeles's  standpoint  is  a  sane  one,  and  his  intimate  acquaint 
ance  with  the  details  of  his  subject  has  in  no  degree  confused  his  sketch 
of  the  general  development." — Critic. 

JEWISH    LIFE    IN    THE    MIDDLE  AGES.— By 

ISRAEL  ABRAHAMS.     452pp.     $1.75. 

"Mr.  Abrahams  has  really  done  a  very  good  and  useful  piece  of 
work.  He  has  taken  up  one  side  of  mediaeval  life,  and  given  us  the 
means  of  getting  a  thorough  understanding  of  it." — Bookman. 

OLD  EUROPEAN  JEWRIES.— By  DAVID  PHILIP- 
SON.  281  pp.  $1.25. 

"  Philipson's  book  is  a  very  valuable  historical  and  ethnographical 
contribution." — GUSTAV  KARPELES,  Allgemeine  Zeitung  des  Juden- 
thums. 

THE  TALMUD.— By  ARSENE  DARMESTETER.  Trans 
lated  from  the  French  by  HENRIETTA  SZOLD.  Boards. 
30  cents.  (Special  Series  No.  4.) 

"  Few  persons  know  what  '  The  Talmud  '  signifies.  The  booklet, 
with  this  title,  .  .  .  is  multum  inparvo  on  this  theme.  That  stupen 
dous  library  of  rabbinic  lore  is  here  described  with  a  fulness  and  a 
clearness  not  surpassed  in  many  larger  and  more  pretentious  works." — 
Dial. 

THE  TALMUD. — Reprinted  from  the  "Literary  Re 
mains"  of  EMANUEL  DEUTSCH.  Boards.  30  cents. 
(Special  Series  No.  3. ) 

"  When  first  published  .  .  .  made  its  author,  then  one  of  the  under- 
librarians  at  the  British  Museum,  famous,  and  still  remains  an  admira 
ble  short  study." — Atlantic  Monthly. 

READINGS  AND  RECITATIONS.  For  Jewish 
Homes  and  Schools. — Compiled  by  ISABEL  E.  COHEN. 
294  pp.  #1.25. 

"  This  book  should  be  found  in  every  Jewish  home ;  it  should  find  its 
way  into  every  Jewish  Sabbath-school ;  for  none  will  lay  it  aside  with 
out  feeling  that  a  religion  which  could  intone  such  songs  and  inspire 
such  bards  has  every  claim  upon  the  intelligent  reverence  of  those  in  its 
household  born."-rEMiL  G.  HIRSCH,  Reform  Advocate. 


THE  PERSECUTION  OP  THE  JEWS  IN  RUS 
SIA. — 87pp.  Paper.  25  cents.  (Special  Series  No.  I.) 

"  The  pamphlet  is  full  of  facts,  and  will  inform  people  very  fully  in 
regard  to  the  basis  of  the  complaints  made  by  the  Jews  against  Russia." 
—Public  Opinion. 

PROCEEDINGS  OF  THE  FIRST  CONVENTION 
OF  THE  NATIONAL  COUNCIL  OF  JEW- 
ISH  WOMEN  (New  York,  1896).  426  pp.  #1.00. 

"  Among  the  many  speeches  recorded,  we  have  found  several  of  much 
more  than  ordinary  power." — Public  Opinion. 

PAPERS  OF  THE  JEWISH  WOMEN'S  CON 
GRESS  (Chicago,  1893).  270  pp.  $1.00. 

"This  collection  interprets  the  motive  force  which  actuates  the 
daughters  of  Israel  under  all  life's  circumstances,  and  it  is  certainly  to 
the  credit  of  the  Jewish  women  of  America  that  they  should  have  been 
able  to  so  effectually  voice  the  sentiments  and  thoughts  that  pervade 
their  sex."— Jewish  World,  London. 


FICTION 

SONS  OF  THE  COVENANT.— By  SAMUEL  GORDON. 

Illustrated.     500  pp.     $1.50. 

"  A  charming  story,  attractive  not  alone  for  its  healthful,  invigorating 
tone,  but  an  indefinable  spiritual  quality  that  stamps  the  author  as  full 
of  promise." — -Jewish  Messenger. 

UNDER  THE  EAGLE'S  WING.— By  SARA  MILLER. 

Illustrated.     229  pp.     75  cents. 

"  It  is  a  story  of  the  days  of  Maimonides.  .  .  .  The  author  is  to  be 
commended  for  her  book,  that  abounds  in  stirring  incidents  and  is 
written  with  considerable  ability."— Jewish  Messenger. 

THEY  THAT  WALK  IN  DARKNESS.  Ghetto 
Tragedies. — By  I.  ZANGWILL.  486pp.  $1.50.  Sold 
to  Members  only. 

"  While  the  tragic  issue  of  each  of  these  remarkable  stories  is  inevi 
table,  they  are  illumined  by  flashes  of  fancy,  satire,  irony  and  humor. 
No  reader  who  is  not  blinded  by  prejudice  will  rise  from  the  perusal  of 
this  engrossing  volume  without  an  enhanced  sense  of  compassion  for, 
and  admiration  of,  the  singular  race  of  whose  traits  and  temperament  Mr. 
Zangwill  is  perhaps  the  most  gifted  interpreter." — Spectator,  London. 


LOST    PRINCE    ALMON — By  Louis  PENDLETON. 
Illustrated.     218  pp.     75  cents. 

"  It  is  a  charmingly  written  story  of  the  little  Prince  Jehoash,  son  of 
Ahaziah,  whom  the  Prince  Jehoiada  had  rescued  from  the  clutches  of 
Athaliah.  .  .  Our  Sunday-school  literature  is  so  extremely  poor  that 
we  hail  this  volume  with  particular  delight,  and  we  predict  that  it  will 
soon  be  one  of  the  most  popular  gift  books  for  Jewish  children." — 
Jewish  Voice. 

DREAMERS  OF  THE  GHETTO.— By  I.  ZANGWILL. 

537  PP'     $l-5°'     Sold  to  Members  only. 

"  With  marvellous  industry,  and  with  no  small  amount  of  erudition, 
he  has  packed  together  into  the  scenes  dealing  with  Uriel  Acosta,  Sab- 
batai  Zevi,  Spinoza,  the  Baal  Shem,  Maimon,  Heine,  Lassalle  and 
Beaconsfield,  just  those  incidents  and  sayings  of  their  careers  which 
bring  out  most  clearly  their  Jewish  aspects." — JOSEPH  JACOBS,  Book 
man. 

IN  THE  PALE.    Stories  and  Legends  of  the  Rus 
sian  Jews. — By  HENRY  ILIOWIZI.     367  pp.    $1.25. 

"  Henry  Iliowizi  .  .  .  is  a  master  of  both  humor  and  pathos,  as  is 
shown  in  his  book  of  stories  and  legends  entitled  '  In  the  Pale.' " — Sun 
day-School  Times. 

CHILDREN  OF  THE  GHETTO— By  I.  ZANGWILL. 

2  V01S.       451  pp.,  325  pp.       $2.50, 

"Nowhere  else  have  been  given  us  more  realistic  pictures  ot  the 
shabbiness,  the  unwholesomeness,  the  close-packed  human  misery,  the 
squalor,  the  vulgarity,  the  sharp  struggle  in  the  mean  competition  of 
life,  in  the  East  End  of  London.  [But]  there  is  a  world  of  poetry,  of 
dreams,  of  imagination,  of  high  calling,  of  intellectual  subtlety,  even,  in 
which  sordid  London,  not  Jewish,  has  no  part  nor  lot." — CHARLES 
DUDLEY  WARNER,  Harper's  Magazine. 

RABBI  AND  PRIEST.— By  MILTON  GOLDSMITH.    314 
pp.     $1.00. 

"  The  author  has  attempted  to  depict  faithfully  the  customs  and  prac 
tices  of  the  Russian  people  and  government  in  connection  with  the 
Jewish  population  of  that  country.  The  book  is  a  strong  and  well- 
written  story."— Public  Opinion. 


THINK  AND  THANK.— By  S.  W,  COOPER,  Illustrated. 
1 20  pp.     50  cents. 

"  Sir  Moses  Montefiore  is  the  hero  of  this  story.  ..."  Think  and 
Thank '  will  please  boys,  and  it  will  be  found  popular  in  Sunday-school 
libraries." — New  York  Herald. 

VOEGELE'S  MARRIAGE  AND  OTHER  TALES. 

— By  Louis  SCHNABEL.      83  pp.      Paper.     25  cents 
(Special  Series  No.  2.) 

" '  The  False  Turn  '  is  a  charming  little  sketch,  and  the  humor  of  it 
very  delicate  and  amusing.  'Voegele's  Marriage'  I  find  also  very 
artistic  and  interesting." — EMMA  LAZARUS. 


Publications  Sent  from   the  Society's  Office 
Postpaid 


FOR  SALE  BY  THE  TRADE 


Special  Terms  to  Schools  and  Libraries 


THE  JEWISH  PUBLICATION  SOCIETY 
OF  AMERICA 

JOJ5  Arch  Street,  Philadelphia,  Pa. 
P.  O.  Box  JJ64 


The  Society  is  the  Sole  Agent  for  the  Publications  of 
the  American  Jewish  Historical  Society 


BEQUESTS,   DONATIONS,  AND   LIFE   MEMBERSHIP  DUES 
($100)  ARE  PLACED  IN  THE  PERMANENT  FUND. 


FORM  OF  BEQUEST 


I  give,  bequeath  and  devise  to  the  Jewish 
Publication  Society  of  America  (here  add  the 
natiire  and  amount  of  the  bequest) 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY, 
BERKELEY 

THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

Books  not  returned  on  time  are  subject  to  a  fine  of 
?0c  P«r  ™lume  after  the  third  day  overdue,  increasing 
to  $1.00  per  volume  after  the  sixth  day.  Books  not  in 


APR  4 


REC'D  LD 

MAY  2  7 165-1 

G.C.U. 


INTER  LIBRAR 

LOAN 
ONE  MONTH  AFTER  RECHPT 

NOV    2  1968 


M 


50m-8,'26 


•*• « 

«.-'.. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


